


You Will Always Be Here (Stored Inside My Mind)

by bleuchees



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe, And I had to post something for Kuroko's Birthday, Angst, Anxiety, Don't ask me why, Fluff, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, It just stuck in my head, M/M, Neon Genesis AU, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-09-21 07:30:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 35,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9537977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bleuchees/pseuds/bleuchees
Summary: Seijuurou looked up into the sort of blue he might expect puffy white clouds to be floating in.“A bit early for house calls,” he commented.Tetsuya’s mouth pursed unhappily. “You shouldn’t leave your door unlocked.”//The GoM are Eva pilots, reaching out for happiness in a joyless world. Locked inside his own mind, Akashi struggles to find the key that will let him out and into his old life. But when Kuroko moves in, it turns out he may never have had the key at all. A story of recovery, friendship, and one extra spark to ignite something new.





	1. Chapter 1

Light filtered in through the blinds half-drawn over the window. Dust floated in and out of darkness, lazily blinking in and out of existence. Seijuurou could hear the faint breathing of the woman in the chair opposite him.

She uncrossed and crossed her legs, feigning comfort with the heavy silence that had settled over them.

“Nothing to talk about?” she asked. She tapped her pen against the notebook in her lap briefly before suddenly aborting the movement. Probably realizing it seemed impatient.

Seijuurou didn’t know what he was doing here.

He stared out the window. A car rolled slowly through the parking lot, carefully maneuvering between immaculate paint jobs. He stared into the glare off the shiny metal until it blinded him. “Not in particular,” he stated tonelessly, aware his reply had come late.

“Well, why don’t you tell me what you did this morning?” she tried again.

_Absolutely nothing._

“I woke up, took a shower-” _Lie_ “-answered some emails from work-” _Lie_ “—the usual.” His vision had become totally blind in spots. He shifted his gaze minutely, posture held carefully still.

“That’s good,” she praised warmly. “That’s progress. It’s all in the little things.”

_It was a lie._

Seijuurou took in a slow breath, counting to ten in his head. Outside, someone was heading to his car.

A rustling caught his attention. Across the gap between them, she was shifting forward, tilting her head as if to catch his gaze. He kept his eyes fixed on her notebook.

“Is there something you aren’t telling me?” she asked, a note of concern filtering into her tone.

“Not in particular.”

∞

Laughter echoed through the cafeteria, snippets of cacophonous conversation ricocheting off the walls and scraping over Seijuurou’s nerves. His shoulders hurt already from how tight they’d gotten.

“They are going to offer you a promotion,” Shintaro mentioned in what he clearly thought was a casual tone of voice. “It’s natural,” he added more tightly.

Seijuurou pressed his knuckles to his mouth briefly, suppressing a smile. Shintaro could be unaffectedly endearing at times. “I expect so,” he replied to the air slightly to Shintaro’s right. This would be easier if he had something to pretend to be interested in, but he had neglected to bring a lunch and it would be more prudent to lick the floor than try the cafeteria’s cuisine.

“Are you going to accept?” Shintaro’s eyes bored into Seijuurou, betraying the urgency of the question. There was always a point to these rendezvous with Shintaro. Seijuurou remained silent.

“You could always,” he paused, “step back from active work.”

The idea lay heavy between them. Seijuurou pressed his back more firmly into the cold plaster behind him, the edge of the table digging into the palm of his hand where he gripped it.

“I’m not leaving,” Seijuurou asserted, a hint of a wry smile tugging at his mouth. He was surprised Shintaro had actually voiced the suggestion, though the sentiment was one he knew was being echoed among their ranks. “I just got back from a break.”

Shintaro shifted, uncomfortable. He didn’t like bringing it up. “All the same,” he replied shortly.

They had gotten their point across to each other. There was no shogi game to finish in peace this time, so Shintaro rose, taking the lunch he hadn’t bothered to pretend to eat. “I’ll see you around,” he said a bit more softly.

“I’ll see you,” Seijuurou promised, making eye contact for the first time.

Seijuurou listened to the clipped pace of Shintaro’s walk as he departed, and momentarily sound washed over him. Shrieking laughter bounced off the plain interior plaster of the compound. Seijuurou had never understood why they tolerated these places. He understood it less now.

Nonetheless, it would be weakness to ask to meet elsewhere. He got up to leave.

∞

Ryouta was talking rapidly about nonsense again. Seijuurou wasn’t listening, but he could determine from the flush of his cheeks that Ryouta had partaken in the sake at the table, and that was telling enough. That, and the persistent furrow that had etched itself between Shintaro’s eyebrows in the dim light of the restaurant.

“Fruit juices have nothing to do with ionization rates of LCL,” he insisted with a scowl. “Whoever is telling you this is fabricating lies.”

“No,” Ryouta drawled a little too loudly, “It’s got minerals. It makes you more,” he swung a hand through the air in search of the word, “conducting.”

Shintaro looked like he’d bitten into a lemon. “That is the most ridiculous—”

“I’m telling you,” Ryouta easily talked over him, “It’s the next big thing. All the pilots are going to be doing it.”

Seijuurou silently moved the sake out of Ryouta’s reach. The juice cleanse had probably made him a little too susceptible to alcohol, and now they were all paying the price.

_Shintaro especially_ , he thought amusedly as Ryouta leaned over Shintaro to reach the nabe as he sat there rigid and fuming.

Deciding to change the topic before the situation devolved further, Seijuurou asked Ryouta how work was lately.

“Kasamatsu left me,” Ryouta pouted. “He’s gone back to civilian life, _without me_. He’s so mean…” Ryouta started to look like he might cry. “He’s worse than Kurokocchi. Ah! That reminds me!” Ryouta brightened.

“Kurokocchi is coming back next week,” Ryouta chirped happily. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it? I don’t think Akashicci has seen him!” _Since then_ was implied.

Seijuurou forced an uncomfortable smile. The earthy atmosphere of the restaurant now felt oppressive.

“I’ll be glad to see him,” he said, unsure if that should have been assumed.

Judging from the startled looks on their faces, it should have been.

“It’s been a while since Kuroko and I have gotten the chance to chat,” he added, trying for amiable.

“Yeah,” Ryouta said uncertainly. He was regretting having brought it up, it seemed.

“It’s getting a bit late,” Shintaro interjected. “We should go home before this one passes out.” He tilted his head toward Ryouta.

“It is late,” Seijuurou agreed, standing.

Ryouta groaned dramatically. “You two are getting old,” he complained, tugging on Shintaro’s sleeve to keep steady as he stood.

Midorima twitched, offended. Seijuurou signaled for the check without bothering to listen in further.

It wasn’t until Seijuurou stepped outside that he realized how gradually tense he’d been growing in the enclosed interior of the restaurant. Feeling his chest lighten considerably, it no longer seemed as daunting to think of Tetsuya’s return. The last, and possibly most important reunion.


	2. Chapter 2

_“Prepare to launch. In five… four… three… two…”_

Seijuurou’s belly seemed to lift into his chest as he was unexpectedly released into free fall. Heart racing, he couldn’t shake the sensation of falling. There was no wind. Nothing was moving, but he was falling, he was falling, _he was about to hit the ground_ —

Seijuurou woke, sweaty.

His fingers gripped the sheets as he stared at the ceiling. Bland white in daylight, it had taken on the colorless shade everything had in the dead of night. Shakily, he took in a slow breath, and rolled over. It was 3:30 in the morning. Rolling back with a sigh, he wondered if it was worth it to take a shower. He entertained the thought briefly before discarding it; his limbs were beginning to feel like lead now that the light-headed panic of the nightmare was fading.

This was the part where he should drift back to sleep. He wouldn’t. He knew he wouldn’t without trying. He’d stare at the ceiling for hours until light slowly crept in through the blinds, and then he’d reluctantly peel himself from the mattress and get ready for work. But only at the last possible moment.

And stretching between then and here, it was just Seijuurou in a room with himself.

Inevitably, his thoughts strayed to Tetsuya’s return. The last time they’d seen each other Tetsuya had been crying. It was such a rare sight it had burned into his memory, though much else of that time was hazy. He wasn’t given long until the hospital had passed him into the rehabilitation center, but Tetsuya’s red-rimmed eyes staring worriedly at him had dogged his thoughts while he lay among the neutral tones of the rehabilitation center, staring numbly at the clouds that drifted so slowly past his window. He didn’t even know why it bothered him so much at the time.

Gravity pressed his form into the sheets beneath him, pushing a soft sigh out amongst his breath. Seijuurou felt tired.

∞

“ _Cheers!_ ”

The sharp clinking of drinks colliding filled the air. Drawing his drink back to his lips, Kuroko glanced over where Akashi sat diagonally across the table. _He looks different_ , Kuroko thought, noting how he looked thinner, his eyes focused on the table in front of him. _His hair has gotten longer._

Kuroko turned towards the conversation between Kise and Aomine, aware that Akashi had probably noticed his gaze. He was still the only one who could catch Kuroko staring.

“Shut up dumbass, you don’t even know what you’re talking about,” Aomine barked irritatedly.

Kise garbled incoherently around his mouthful of food for a moment before forcefully swallowing and continuing, “You wouldn’t be saying that if you knew. Food has never tasted better.” With that, he scooped another mound of food into his mouth.

Kuroko smiled slightly. “Kise has finished his diet, I see,” he commented.

“Tell him, Kuroko,” Aomine said, suddenly noticing his presence. “His stupid diet is the dumbest thing ever.”

Kuroko could feel his smile growing. “I don’t know,” he said neutrally. “I’ve heard juice cleanses have lots of health benefits.” All nonsense, of course.

Aomine sputtered, disbelieving, while Kise honked out a triumphant laugh. “See? Kurokocchi agrees with me,” he said smugly.

Aomine scowled. “That’s not what he said,” he responded.

“Yes it is and you know it,” Kise countered childishly. Kuroko picked at his food, half-listening now.

“You’re only like this because Kasamatsu dumped you,” Aomine accused. “You’re like a girl trying to lose weight to show up her ex.”

Kise gasped, betrayed. “How dare you,” he started. “I’ll have you know that _I’m_ the one leaving him, and what are you trying to imply anyways?”

Kuroko tuned out the conversation, turning to Kagami on his left who was shoveling food into his mouth in between responding to Himuro and Murasakibara’s quiet conversation in the corner. On Murasakibara’s other side, Midorima was talking to Akashi while Takao leaned over heavily, cheerily adding to the conversation.

Parties for Kuroko usually went like this. Everyone took the time to personally greet him at least once, but the rest of the time casually talked amongst themselves. It was comfortable. Kuroko tried to focus on Kise and Aomine’s conversation and not on the fact that Akashi hadn’t so much as looked at him yet.

“…is Momoicchi, anyways?” Kise asked, having calmed down.

“Held up at the compound running diagnostics on Unit 04,” Aomine said, his face relaxed into his characteristic bored expression. His eyes met Kuroko’s for a brief moment. Kuroko had a feeling Aomine had noticed his lapse in attention.

“We’re meeting tomorrow to go shopping instead,” Kuroko offered.

“Eh,” Kise perked up immediately. “When? I wanna come,” he whined.

The sun slowly crept over the horizon, orange slants of light tipping upwards as the sun cast its last efforts over the edge of the ragged skyline. As orange faded to purple, then blue, Kuroko felt himself growing sleepy in the warmth of company.

“It’s getting late,” Aomine announced, stretching. “I think I’m gonna split.”

Kise yawned, checking his watch. “You’re right, I need to get home.” He stood up, flexing his legs and lifting a hand in farewell. “See you tomorrow, Kurokocchi.”

“Goodbye,” Kuroko replied evenly.

Aomine didn’t say anything, just ruffling his hair roughly before heading for the door, shouting “Oi, Kise!”

“Bye, everyone,” Kise cried obnoxiously, drawing out his syllables, from the doorway. He was pointedly ignored.

“So mean,” Kuroko heard him say outside the door as he walked away.

The party was quickly dissolving. Kuroko got up quickly, eyes on target.

“You go on ahead,” he said to Kagami’s curious look.

“Sure,” Kagami agreed, signaling to Himuro they were leaving.

On the other side of the table, Midorima was standing up with Takao and Akashi. Kuroko walked over with purpose, deciding to address Midorima first.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” he said, tilting his head up to meet Midorima’s gaze.

“You’ve been away for a while,” Midorima responded, coming as close to an accusation as he would within Akashi’s earshot. Kuroko really wished he wouldn’t.

“They’re having quite a bit of trouble with outpost raids,” Kuroko said, trying to sound less defensive and failing, “It took longer than I expected.”

Takao stepped in to his rescue. “We’re struggling with the downtown factions, ourselves. It’s amazing what a few criminals can do with Eva technology. Speaking of, we need to get going,” he said, tugging on Midorima’s sleeve. Midorima turned, irritated, and Kuroko used the reprieve to look at Akashi, who was beginning to step back from the conversation.

Kuroko took a step forward, smiling unsurely. “Hey,” he said a little softly.

Akashi looked up at his tone. “Hello, Kuroko,” he responded.

Kuroko felt something release in his chest. “It’s good to see you,” he said sincerely.

“And you,” Akashi replied. There was a stiffness between them, Kuroko realized disappointedly.

“Your hair has gotten longer,” he commented. Akashi looked uncomfortable. “It looks good,” Kuroko elaborated. “It suits you.”

Akashi shifted his weight, his eyes boring into Kuroko’s for a brief moment before turning to look at his shoulder. Kuroko didn’t know what that meant. “You haven’t changed much,” Akashi said.

Why was this so difficult? “Yeah,” Kuroko faltered.

“It’s getting late, and I have work tomorrow,” Akashi said suddenly. “I should be going now.”

“We didn’t get to talk much,” Kuroko protested. “We should meet soon and catch up.”

“Sure,” Akashi said vaguely. “See you, then.”

“Tomorrow?” Kuroko persisted. “We both have lunch free.” He actually didn’t know if Akashi had lunch free, but he was sure if he asked Akashi would say no.

“Oh,” Akashi said, a bit surprised. “I don’t want to trouble you.”

“Not at all,” Kuroko said, feeling relieved. “I’ll see you then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some vindictive asshole left a kudos so now I have to update everyday, since I said I would. I actually can't believe someone left a kudos on that pitiful offering. I am such a bad person omg


	3. Chapter 3

Seijuurou looked through the massive window that stretched from floor to ceiling into the chamber below. A twisted mockery of human anatomy in the shape of a metal skull with exposed ligaments and muscles twitched, its unseeing eyes roving. Inside that massive rotting skull, a pilot-in-training practiced engagement maneuvers. One day, she might pilot a real Eva, hundreds of feet above the ground in a metal and flesh humanoid form.

“Looks like one of the instructors is walking her students through their first simulation,” Sanada commented. The director had called Seijuurou out for a private meeting. Seijuurou could guess why Sanada had brought him here specifically.

“Ever thought about becoming an instructor?” Sanada asked, eyes searching his face. Seijuurou kept his gaze fixed on the figures of students below. The small crowd wavered, waiting impatiently as one of them was carefully guided into the entry plug of the simulator.

“No,” Seijuurou said, hoping a tone of finality would end this conversation. No such luck.

“I think you’d be well suited for it,” Sanada professed. As if Seijuurou cared about his opinion. Still, he had to be polite to his superiors.

“I couldn’t see myself doing what an instructor does.” Seijuurou chose his words carefully. It was more Tetsuya’s speed to patiently train up the incompetent. And either way, he wasn’t sure what he thought of the instructors, who tested each candidate for Eva synchronicity. No one got to choose whether or not to be Eva pilots. Seijuurou wasn’t sure he could be the hand to take away that freedom.

Sanada was watching him with a neutral expression. It was hard to get a read on the man. Sanada professed to feel deep sympathy for pilots the way his late predecessor had. Nonetheless, Director Shirogane had protected pilots where he could against the demands of the higher-ups. Sanada, on the other hand, constantly seemed to quail under the pressure of his superiors.

“I understand,” Sanada said, and left it at that, turning to walk out the door. Seijuurou eyed him thoughtfully. Sanada had been suspiciously reluctant about pushing his agenda. This must have been a visit orchestrated by the higher-ups, which meant they were thinking of repurposing him. Akashi’s time of aimlessly wandering around the compound, wasting away the days with menial paperwork was drawing to a close.

∞

Seijuurou leaned against the chilled concrete, eyes tilted upward as he waited. He made a point nowadays of being early to meetings so he could pick the spot, but it came with the downside of waiting. And Tetsuya had a habit of being just a bit late at unpredictable times.

“Akashi,” a voice called. Apparently this was not one of those times. Seijuurou turned his head, a polite smile already prepared.

“I hope you haven’t been waiting long,” Tetsuya said, a troubled expression shadowing his features.

“Not at all,” Seijuurou lied. It wasn’t Tetsuya’s fault that Seijuurou had come early, restless with anticipation. He gestured at the spot across the table, where Tetsuya obligingly sat. Sinking onto the cheap cold plastic of the cafeteria chairs, Seijuurou decided to let Tetsuya

“I’m surprised they’re not trying to get you back on active rotation,” Tetsuya mentioned. “You’re still one of the best pilots, if not the best.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Seijuurou said hesitantly.

Tetsuya lifted an eyebrow questioningly.

“They tried inserting me in a simulation, back at the rehabilitation center,” he said reluctantly. Tetsuya’s brow furrowed immediately in consternation. “It didn’t go as planned.”

Tetsuya set his drink down, taking a moment to think of a response.

Seijuurou averted his gaze to a group of people behind them. For a moment, he had forgotten he was looking directly into Tetsuya’s eyes. There was something unguarded about his gaze that lent it a comforting neutrality.

“Sanada thinks I should become an instructor,” Seijuurou stated carelessly.

“It would look better, I suppose,” Tetsuya remarked.

“For me or for him?” Seijuurou questioned.

“For the whole division, probably,” Tetsuya said thoughtfully. “You’re still a favorite in the public eye. Raising the new generation is a far more proactive endorsement than paperwork.”

Seijuurou hummed noncommittally. He wasn’t sure about endorsing anything.

Seeming to read his thoughts, Tetsuya continued “Perhaps that’s why you shouldn’t.”

Seijuurou looked back at him, before switching to the safer target of his hand where it rested on the table. “I don’t know,” he answered honestly.

“It’s not a bad idea, really,” Tetsuya said a bit more light-heartedly. “You’re a very good teacher, after all. And you have an aptitude for assistant piloting, and experience as a pilot. Setting aside the politics,” Kuroko leaned forward in the space between them to catch his eye, “I think you’d enjoy it quite a bit.” He smiled supportively at Seijuurou.

Seijuurou smiled back lightly, feeling insincere. He didn’t know how to explain the dread that slowly filled him every time he tried to envision his future career. It all seemed to have gone so wrong.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out, given time,” Tetsuya reassured. “What have you been up to outside of work?”

Seijuurou pondered a variety of vague responses before settling on “Work keeps me busy. I usually just rest afterwards.” Tetsuya had to know there was no way Seijuurou would be tired out by the desk job he currently held.

∞

“Tetsu!!!!!!!!!!” came a squeal from behind, followed quickly by major impact as Momoi launched herself at him, hugging him fiercely.

“Momoi… that still hurts…” Kuroko wheezed, fighting to catch his breath.

“Tetsu is just being a wimp,” she said affectionately. She gave him an extra squeeze before letting go. Kuroko rubbed his arms, wary of another assault on his person.

“Come on, Ki-chan is waiting for us,” she said, tugging on his arm. “He’s at the mall already.” Kuroko began to wonder why he had signed himself up for possibly hours of cutesy nicknames and bubbly personalities.

“How have you been,” Momoi asked, looking at him with genuine interest. “It’s been too long,” she whined, tugging on Kuroko’s arm with half-hearted urgency.

“I’ve been doing fine. Kagami is a good pilot,” he replied with considerably less enthusiasm than she had asked. “We work well together.”

“Kagami is the new tall one, right?” Momoi guessed, as if she hadn’t already gathered all possible information on him already.

“Right,” Kuroko confirmed anyways. “The fringes of Tokyo don’t usually have a lot of work, so it was a good way to get to know each other.”

“You worked with him before, though, right? On that unlisted case,” Momoi pointed out. She was fishing for information.

“Right… I don’t know why it wouldn’t have been listed. Must have been a clerical error,” he said in a flat tone.

Momoi looked at him searchingly for a long moment before breaking out into a smile. “Okay,” she said simply.

∞

“Kurokocchi, Momoicchi” Kise cried out in bliss, “It’s been too long since we got together.” He was rifling through a clothing rack while Kuroko stood to the side, patiently holding Momoi’s bags for her.

“Kurokocchi should look too,” Kise commented. “You always look like you’re wearing a potato sack. What size is that T-shirt, XXL?”

Kuroko looked at him dispassionately. “These shirts are medium size and fit me just fine, thank you for your concern.” He began to cast about for Momoi to save him.

Kise made a noise of disbelief. “No way. You look like you’re drowning in that shirt.” He waved impatiently for Kuroko to come closer. “Let me see.” He grabbed the back of Kuroko’s T-shirt, ignoring his squirming as he checked the size. A slow grin formed on his face. “No way, you’re so small!” Kise started laughing.

Kuroko frowned, unamused. “I’m medium,” he insisted. Kise kept laughing. “Sure, sure,” he said indulgently. “Let me see. What about this shirt?” he asked, holding up a pastel shirt of some kind that was very clearly a small.

Kuroko started walking towards the women’s section. Momoi had to be around here somewhere.

“Aw, come on,” Kise said, still smiling. “I’m sorry, come back. Kurokocchi,” he drew out Kuroko’s name. Ignoring him, Kuroko forged on where he thought he saw Momoi heading last. Soon enough he found her, looking at assorted hair accessories.

“Already done?” she asked.

“Kurokochhi got mad because I said he was small, so we’re done now,” Kise elaborated (unnecessarily in Kuroko’s opinion).

“I am not mad,” Kuroko stressed, and because he couldn’t help himself, “Kise is wrong. I’m a medium.”

Momoi gave him a look like he was a puppy that just rolled over for her. “Aw” she cooed. “Of course you are. But it’s okay to be small, Kuroko, that way we can be the same size.” And with that, she latched onto Kuroko’s arm, settling on a light purple hair pin and ignoring Kuroko’s abject embarrassment.

“Anyways,” Kuroko said, casting about for any topic, “Do either of you know how Akashi is doing? We talked today, but he’s a bit hard to get a hold of.” The change in mood was dramatic. Momoi and Kise exchanged sober looks, before Momoi replied:

“Akashi keeps to himself mostly, these days. Midorin would know better. He sees him more often.”

Kuroko lightly grimaced. Trying to get Midorima to talk about Akashi was worse than pulling teeth. “So you don’t know?” he asked, curious about how Momoi let this past her surveillance.

“I can’t access his medical records, or any information his mission record. Everything has been sealed tight,” she said discontentedly. “You guys know the most. He got back almost a month ago, and he hasn’t been the same since.”

She eyed Kuroko speculatively. “There’s nothing you know that we don’t, is there?” Kuroko felt himself begin to flush under her gaze, heat rushing to his ears and back of his neck. Thankfully, he was saved by Kise.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Momoicchi, Kurokocchi would tell us anything he knew,” Kise assured her.

“So no one really knows how he’s doing nowadays?” Kuroko asked, exasperated.

“Well, it is Akashi, after all,” Momoi reminded him. “He doesn’t exactly ask for… help.” Kuroko doubted Akashi had ever had to ask for help before. He could see the sentiment reflected in Momoi and Kise’s expressions. Akashi had a lot of pride, after all. You couldn’t simply tell him he needed help without resistance. But they had all seen the change in his demeanor. Akashi simply wasn’t the same: not as assertive, as outgoing, or flawlessly put-together the way he used to be.

_And he’s not the only one_ , Kuroko thought while looking at Kise. It was worrying to see the expression of happiness drop off his face so easily. Kise was naturally exuberant, but he was also very good at faking a bubbly demeanor.

Kise groaned dramatically. “This atmosphere is getting too gloomy,” he exclaimed. “Let’s go find a game to play.”

The first game they found was a claw crane, of course. Momoi clapped her hands together and pointed at a plushie. “It’s so cute!” she cried, and looked hopefully at Kuroko, who signed internally.

“Should I get it for you?” he asked obligingly. Momoi’s eyes lit up. Kuroko felt his own lips lift in response. It always felt nice to make Momoi smile.

Kise, however, was staring at the plush, somewhat perturbed. “Uh… that plush?” he questioned, pointing uncertainly into the claw crane’s chamber.

“It’s special,” Momoi said, eyeing it with restrained glee. The plush seemed to be a rip-off of a character for kids, with a misshapen body, three eyes, and a hideous hat.

Kise gave Kuroko a subtle side-eye just to be sure. Kuroko shrugged and started digging in his pockets for a quarter. The chances of them getting it were slim, anyways.

“Here,” Kise said, proffering a quarter. Kuroko thanked him, inserting the coin and directing the claw towards the plush. Amazingly, he managed to snag the thing on his first try.

“Whoa,” Kise exclaimed. “Kurokocchi’s got skills!”

Kuroko watched with some dismay as the plush was delivered into the slot. “Thanks, Tetsu!” Momoi hugged him before going to get his prize. He had a feeling that plush would haunt him later.

“Maybe the machine is easy,” he hypothesized to Kise, who was still staring in awe at him.

“Let me try,” Kise said, pulling out another coin. Time passed like this, with Kuroko leaning against the cold metal frame of the claw machine while Momoi tried her hand at another one.

“How are you, really?” Kuroko asked Kise lowly. There was no question that he was referring to Kasamatsu; there was only one person of late who’d had the gall to leave Kise sick at heart.

Kise looked at him out the corner of his eye, and let his enthusiastic smile drop a bit. He looked down into the chamber where the crane was feebly tugging a teddy bear out of the heap.

“It’s that obvious, huh,” Kise muttered.

“Maybe I just know you well,” Kuroko said, trying for reassuring.

Kise sighed, unaffected. “I knew it was coming,” he said quietly. “I knew, but…” he turned to Kuroko “It’ll just take some time is all.” He smiled, more genuinely this time. “Come on. We should go.”

Kuroko trailed behind him, feeling vaguely frustrated. He couldn’t help but feel that over months of separation his friends had gradually drifted apart. Now, they were too far apart for him to reach.

_There has to be a way of fixing this_ , he thought determinedly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *vomits blood*


	4. Chapter 4

Seijuurou stepped into the prep room, where the pilots were stepping into their plug suits. On the bench, the newest addition sat, looking somewhat lost. A plug suit lay across his lap, a blue to match the light shading of his hair. His head tilted up at the sound of the door swinging, and Seijuurou locked eyes with Tetsuya for the first time. Tetsuya stood, recognizing the insignia that demarked Seijuurou as captain of the team.

His first, overwhelming impression of Tetsuya had been how young he looked. The more developed bodies of experienced pilots seemed to dwarf him. Years later, this impression haunted Seijuurou as he visited Tetsuya in the hospital, bandages wrapped around his hands, his head, and neck.

Seijuurou blinked. There was a ceiling in front of his eyes. Once again, lost in memories in the dead of night. The pressure of his fears pushed his mind backward in time. A Tetsuya full of regrets regressed to one filled with hope. Shintaro’s resignation reverting to determination. Kise’s loneliness back to shallow comfort. Seijuurou… walking them to their inevitable fates, step by step.

_I asked for this_ , he thought, looking down at Tetsuya in his hospital bed _. I asked for him specifically. He could have been free—_ Kuroko’s eyes fluttered open — _and I took that away from him_. Kuroko smiled upon seeing his face.

Seijuurou turned his head to the side. It was still the dead of night. He was still here. Seijuurou tried to focus on the present, gathering up the energy to sit up. He propped himself up on an elbow. Clothes lay strewn about the floor, papers chaotically piled in a corner of the room. He hated the disorder. He should get up and fix it. Seijuurou sank back down into the mattress. _In a minute,_ he thought. He felt utterly drained, though he’d only been lying in bed. He knew he wouldn’t get up in a minute. He knew he had to get up _now_. But knowing didn’t change a single thing.

For a long time, Akashi drifted between waking and dreaming incoherently of screaming noises and unbearable heat.

The loud croaking of his alarm summoned him, eventually, from his bed. He was running late for work.

∞

“The board and I have been putting careful thought into your future, Akashi,” Sanada said, his hands firmly clasped upon his desk. “You current position is a redundancy, and frankly, you’re overqualified.” He reached to his side, pulling some papers out of a drawer and placing them upon the desk in front of Seijuurou, who felt his stomach flipping. “We’ve prepared some recommendations for your next position. Take some time to look them over and let us know of your decision.” He paused, looking Seijuurou in the eye. Or at least, he looked at Seijuurou’s eyes while Seijuurou looked at the papers. “You don’t need to report to work until you’ve made your choice.”

Seijuurou stared at the stack of papers without seeing anything. Clearing his throat, Sanada firmly nodded. “You’re dismissed.”

Seijuurou stood up uncertainly, reaching a hand out for the papers. He started walking out the door, feeling oddly displaced. Time seemed to stretch and shrink, until the distance to the door seemed to take a whole minute of walking to reach. But really, he knew, it must have only been a few seconds. _You’re dismissed._

He walked back to his office, feeling numbed to his surroundings. Gathering the few possessions he had bothered to bring to the small desk provided, he started to walk home. _Dismissed._

…walking through his living room. He looked around himself, gathering his bearings. It was often that he zoned out while walking home; he took a moment to check the time. He hadn’t had to meet anyone that night, thankfully. He tried not to think deeply about missing time again, turning his attention to more pressing matters.

Akashi considered the stack of papers he’d placed on the table at some point. He should look at it; he should look at it now. Sanada hadn’t given him a hard deadline for his response to the offers but he would issue one if Akashi didn’t respond in a timely manner. And Akashi’s reputation was already slipping.

He took the papers in his hand half-heartedly, beginning to shuffle through them. Predictably enough, the first offer was for an instructor’s position. Akashi got halfway through the first paragraph detailing responsibilities for instructors before his eyes started to unfocus. He belatedly realized that he was rereading the same sentence without processing it. Setting aside the papers with some relief, he decided to come back to them later. For now, Seijuurou felt tired. He headed to bed, carelessly pulling his shirt off before lying in bed, trying not to think about how, technically, he was just fired.

∞

Heaving metal and flesh groaned lowly under Kuroko. Swallowed by the warmth of LCL fluid, he focused on the screens before him and Kagami.

“Engaging rifle,” Kuroko intoned into his mic, knowing Kagami was already aware of his intentions. Speaking was for the benefit of the techs monitoring the fight from far away.

Outside, Unit 10’s leg stomped down on the release lever for the rifle, whose massive case slide open for easy reach. Pulling the giant gun out of its case, they steadied it on their shoulder and aimed at the advancing units below.

Targeting them one by one in their crosshairs, they began to systematically shoot down the smaller Eva units of the type developed by rogue agents. It was at times like these that Kagami got bored.

“What are you doing tonight?” he asked distractedly.

Kuroko didn’t reply, but he didn’t need to. Kagami had already picked up on his train of thought.

“You know you’re not actually responsible for what happened to Akashi, right?” Kagami asserted. Kuroko remained silent. Kagami didn’t know everything, after all, and he wasn’t about to spill his secrets while half a dozen techs listened in to their conversation. His reluctance didn’t keep Kagami from talking, though.

“I can’t believe he’s still willing to hang around headquarters at all,” Kagami remarked. “You all have to be reminders of everything that went down with the JW assignment.”

Code name: JABBERWOCKY was the last Eva assignment Kuroko had worked with Akashi on. He didn’t like to remember it, and Kagami knew that.

“I’m just saying,” Kagami continued, “You should try giving him space. Just take a night out or two. I want to go to the arcade.”

“That was the whole point of this discussion, wasn’t it,” Kuroko said drily.

“Whatever!” Kagami barked. “We’re going to the arcade.”

Kuroko held back a sigh. He could go tomorrow morning. Akashi was always up ridiculously early, anyways. They could travel to work together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is short, but at least I'm not staying up until 5 am to post it like with the last chapter. I'm going to try to write ahead as much as possible this weekend so I have a bit of a buffer. Or maybe I'll just post it, what do I care. Comment if you have any opinions (or notice any errors).


	5. Chapter 5

Seijuurou looked up into the sort of blue on he might expect puffy white clouds to be floating in.

“A bit early for house calls,” he commented, voice rough from sleep.

Tetsuya’s mouth pursed unhappily. “You shouldn’t leave your door unlocked.”

Seijuurou rubbed his eyes, propping himself up on one elbow. “What are you doing here?” he asked, looking around for his clock. It was a little past eight in the morning.

Tetsuya frowned. “What are you doing still in bed?” There was something in his voice, something off, like he was a bit more alarmed than usual. Seijuurou’s stomach dropped to the floor as it finally sunk in. Tetsuya was in his apartment, messy and full of dust from lack of regular care. Seijuurou had been caught sleeping. He was dressed in only his boxers. Seijuurou pulled the covers over himself by reflex; he’d never felt so exposed before.

Clearing his throat, Seijuurou sat up quickly, wondering how to get dressed without having to either drag a blanket around the room or wander around mostly naked. Sensing his discomfort, Tetsuya stepped back, saying “I’ll go make some coffee for us.”

Seijuurou winced: he’d never displayed such bad manners before as to make a guest prepare his own drink. As soon as Tetsuya had left the room, closing the door behind him, Seijuurou darted to the closet, his heart pounding. He needed to get Tetsuya out of the flat; he needed to get them _out_. He could suggest they go out for coffee somewhere else. Frantically yanking on his clothes, Seijuurou started for the door before catching his reflection, and stopped in his tracks. He hadn’t shaved, and he looked like he’d barely slept. Sighing, he went to shave and try to wash the exhaustion. By the time he came out, Tetsuya was already brewing coffee, the smell slowly filling the kitchen and living room area.

Tetsuya poured two cups, handing Seijuurou his black coffee before adding sugar to his own. “Good morning,” Tetsuya said. He seemed to have decided to face the unusual situation with a bit of levity as he smiled at Seijuurou.

“Good morning,” Seijuurou replied. He shifted his weight, wishing he could start putting everything in order before Tetsuya could inspect it, or at least cover his eyes. At the moment, Tetsuya was studying him, however.

“I’m sorry to bother you so early,” Tetsuya apologized. “I shouldn’t have assumed.”

Seijuurou’s stomach twisted. This wasn’t really Tetsuya’s fault. All of Seijuurou’s friends knew the passcode to his building; he’d been welcoming to them in the past. In fact, he’d never even developed the habit of locking his flat. He lived in a wealthy high rise apartment complex, and there was never a question of the flat being burgled. Everyone who came in and out of the building was monitored.

“Not at all,” Seijuurou said weakly, switching between Tetsuya’s gaze and the litter strewn across the counter top where Seijuurou hadn’t bothered to clean it off. It bothered him every time he saw it, but it always seemed like such work to put everything away and clean it. Now he couldn’t decide if staring at the evidence was worse than looking into the eyes that saw all of it.

A silence hung between them. The smile had faded from Tetsuya’s face; he wasn’t particularly good at faking smiles, especially over longer periods of time. He was staring at Seijuurou solemnly.

Seeming to break out of his trance, Tetsuya looked down and back up, and then tried to smile again. “I thought we could head to work together,” he explained belatedly.

“Oh,” was all Seijuurou could say, and immediately Tetsuya’s face started to fall. “I would,” Seijuurou started, “it’s very kind of you, but— I’m not to report in to work today.” What a disaster. Tetsuya was looking at his drink, and Seijuurou wanted nothing more than for this conversation to end. Tetsuya seemed to share the sentiment, immediately putting his drink down and stepping towards the exit.

“Okay,” he said brightly. “I’ll see you then.” _See you when? What?_

Tetsuya turned to leave the door, and Seijuurou lurched forward, seized by a desire to not end the conversation on this note. “It was good to see you,” he blurted. He felt disoriented and wrong-footed.

Tetsuya’s shoulders seemed to release a bit. “You too,” he said to Seijuurou, taking the door and opening it. “Why aren’t you going to work?” he asked, seeming to have just processed that statement. Seeing the look upon Seijuurou’s face, he cringed a bit with regret and amended “Never mind, I’m going to be late for work anyways.” He quickly stepped out the door, shutting it with a click behind him before reopening it to say “Goodbye” and leaving again. Seijuurou waited a long moment to see if he’d return and tentatively locked the door behind him. The last thing he needed was for Tetsuya to come sneaking back in again while he wasn’t looking.

∞

Kuroko walked quickly away from the building, its shadow looming over him and blocking out the heated rays of the sun. _What a bizarre encounter_ , he thought. He’d never seen Akashi like that. Never. The last time he’d been in that apartment, everything down to the placement of the dish soap had been perfectly ordered. The carpet was immaculate, the table clear, the counter top scrubbed within an inch of its life. Akashi was extremely exacting about his environment, but the apartment Kuroko had just visited had been messy, papers strewn on the floor, and garbage sitting out instead of disposed of. Kuroko was beginning to wonder if he had somehow stumbled upon Akashi’s secret twin who was his antithesis in everything. It might have been amusing if Akashi had confessed to projecting a false image of neatness just to be impressive. Kuroko was constantly suspicious of his claims to perfection anyways. But… his reaction had been so uncomfortable, so dismayed. He’d acted like Kuroko had seen something that he definitely, no matter what, had wanted to hide.

Kuroko boarded the train in a haze of troubled thought. Akashi wasn’t taking care of himself anymore. Little things Kuroko had noticed before started to click into place: his loss of weight and longer hair. Akashi wasn’t eating well or going to get haircuts regularly. He wasn’t getting up before dawn to do his daily workout regimen. Everything had just been… dropped. Including his job, apparently. Kuroko wished he’d stayed and extracted an answer from Akashi about what he’d meant, but they’d both been extremely reluctant to continue that conversation. Neither of them had been prepared. Kuroko made a mental note not to show up again unannounced. Akashi wasn’t the same as he used to be. A heavy ball of sadness and frustration weighed Kuroko down the rest of the way to work. _What was the point of the rehabilitation center if it didn’t make him better?_ Kuroko thought unhappily. He approached the TEKO complex where work and Eva pilots lay in wait for him. It occurred to him, suddenly, that Midorima worked here. He could try asking him about Akashi; but if Midorima knew about what was wrong and the state of Akashi’s mind, why had Akashi seemed so alarmed earlier? Kuroko had already invaded Akashi’s privacy; he couldn’t expose what he had found as well without so much as talking to Akashi about it. That meant only one thing: Kuroko would have to go back to Akashi and talk to him about it. He tried not to feel queasy at the thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *resists temptation to drop spoilery hints for what's to come by a narrow margin*


	6. Chapter 6

Seijuurou’s phone was ringing. He stared down at it pensively, his fingers drumming on the counter top. Picking it up, he saw the caller ID was Shintaro. He paused for a moment, caught between answering and ignoring it. Had Tetsuya talked to him yet? The two of them were never close, but Tetsuya had left the flat going straight for where Shintaro was currently working. It wasn’t inconceivable that everyone was talking about him right now. The ringing continued as Seijuurou’s nerves started to fray. He didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want to be questioned about the state of his apartment, or have to defend himself against their thoughts. He’d see it in their faces the next time he saw them. They’d look at him and think something was wrong with him. The ringing finally stopped, leaving Akashi in regretful silence. After a moment, it started ringing again. Seijuurou felt his hands turning clammy. Shintaro never called twice. Either Seijuurou picked up on the first try or not at all. He had to know something. Resisting the urge to ignore the call – that would tip him off – Seijuurou went and dug through the desk in his study, finding a key in the back of a drawer. He stepped outside his apartment, locking the door behind him with his key for the first time in months. He couldn’t have anyone else come in.

Seijuurou set out for a brisk walk around the general vicinity of his building. He lived downtown amongst monstrously tall buildings that housed either the office worker or the incredibly rich. He walked along the sidewalk, the heat of late summer causing the air to waver above cars. Seijuurou had the strange impression, for a moment, he was walking through a complex mirage. He kept his eyes down, swallowing against his dry throat, and tried not to think for just a little while.

∞

Kuroko stared at his phone, silently perturbed. Akashi’s name illuminated the screen. Kuroko hadn’t anticipated Akashi being the one to reach out to him, especially so soon. He wondered if it was a good sign or bad. Picking up the phone, he pressed it against his ear and said, “Hello?”

“Hello, Kuroko,” Akashi’s voice carried quietly from the other end of the line. “I’m sorry we were interrupted this morning.”

“Oh, not at all,” Kuroko said, trying not to sound too sincere. “I didn’t mind.”

“I thought we could meet for coffee tomorrow, since it’s the weekend,” Akashi continued. Kuroko was a bit taken aback at this. Had he miscalculated the magnitude of Akashi’s distress?

“Sure,” Kuroko said, beginning to feel pleasantly surprised. Perhaps Akashi was reaching out, finally.

“I’m sure we have lots to talk about,” Akashi concluded. “By the way, I don’t suppose you know how the others are doing?”

Kuroko paused. Akashi’s tone was casual, but…

“No,” he said firmly, feeling a bit disappointed. Akashi was just checking to see if he’d talked about him to anyone else.

“I see,” Akashi said, sounding a bit more relaxed. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” he dismissed. “I’ll text you the details.” And with that, he hung up.

Kuroko stared at his phone, feeling strangely hollow. He thought of Akashi, lying in that immense apartment by himself day by day, surrounded by that mess. Did he even leave the apartment? If he didn’t clean the apartment, what did he do all day? Akashi used to be happy whenever he got a visitor, to the point he kept his apartment open. Kuroko had never thought much of it before, but now he wondered about it. Up in that tower of wealth, Akashi sat alone all day, nearer the clouds than anyone was to him.

∞

“How was your week?” his therapist asked, head cocked slightly as she looked at him.

“Fine. It was good,” Seijuurou said, his lips curling at the absurdity of the lie. It was a terrible week.

Her eyebrows raised, smiling questioningly. “Something good happen?” she asked, probably having caught his smile.

Seijuurou started to shift uncomfortably, freezing in the middle of the act. The result was that he was poised in a highly awkward position, his back arched and elbows digging into the cloth of his chair. “No, nothing to speak of,” he said, trying to release his posture slowly enough that she wouldn’t notice he was doing it.

She looked down at her clipboard, trying to smile through her frustration. It made her look passive aggressive and furious. Seijuurou looked out the window again. Today, he focused on the shadows of tree leaves in the upper corner of the window.

Very softly, the sound of a sigh came from the other side of the room. Seijuurou wondered if she was aware of it, the sound was so quiet.

A clicking sound caught Seijuurou’s attention. Looking back, she’d put her clipboard on her desk. She clasped her hands together, and looked up at Seijuurou.

“You know,” she started, and Seijuurou felt his heartbeat quicken, sweat beginning to form, “I understand that not everyone walks into this room because they want to be here. Most people who come in for therapy do it because they’re forced to, or because they feel like they’re backed into a corner. This is a last resort for them.” She took a deep breath before continuing: “That doesn’t mean that they can’t get anything out of their time with me.”

She paused for a long moment, considering her words carefully. Seijuurou watched, interested.

“I can’t clear you if you never talk to me,” she said delicately. Seijuurou’s back stiffened. “This isn’t an issue of waiting me out until I decide I’m done trying to pick your brain. When I end therapy with a patient, I’m saying that you’re okay, that you’re functional, and that you no longer need to come here. I can’t give you that,” she looked at him significantly, “unless you give me something back.” Seijuurou’s throat started to close up.

“You don’t have to have a good week,” she said more softly. Seijuurou wondered what his face looked like at the moment, to produce sympathy from her. “It can be a bad week. Things can go wrong at work, or with your friends. You can take steps backwards. I just want you to _tell_ me about it so I can help you.”

Seijuurou started to study his hands. His face was flushed; he didn’t know what to say. She must know something to be saying this. He must have slipped, somehow. His jaw clenched, his throat tightening. He didn’t want this. As long as no one else knew that something was wrong, then that was all he needed. And now two people in one day had seen through the façade just like that. Seijuurou’s eyes started to burn. He wasn’t going to _cry_ here, in front of her. He stood up abruptly, walking out of the room swiftly. She jumped a little at his sudden movements, taken aback. Seijuurou strode out of the building, ignoring her calls after him. He felt like a sudden weight had been lifted from his shoulders as he left the building; he hated having to go and talk to her anyways. He didn’t need to go back. He tried to ignore the sick feeling of failure in the pit of his stomach.

∞

Kuroko approached the western café where they were meeting, a small place with round wooden tables and massive windows to let natural light in. As he looked in, he saw Akashi sitting in the corner, and paused to take him in. It used to be that Akashi would always be late, taking a seat of primacy when he arrived. Nowadays, he always arrived early and sat with his back to a wall, or in a corner. Akashi looked up, and their eyes met through the glass for a suspended moment. Akashi looked away, and Kuroko walked in, a tingling sound coming from the bell attached to the door.

Giving his order to the barista, Kuroko walked over to Akashi’s table to have a seat.

Seating himself across from Akashi, Kuroko set to studying him, trying to see with new eyes what he had missed before. Akashi had light purple shadows at the corners of his eyes. His complexion had become more pallid, and coupled with his slightly hunched shoulders and lowered eyes, it gave him a gloomy air. The only exception was the shockingly bright red hair he always had – which, upon close inspection, Kuroko noticed with shock, was unwashed. Kuroko looked steadily at Akashi’s eyes, feeling an urge to see him less unhappy. He waited until Akashi met his gaze before smiling gently at him, saying “It’s nice to see you outside of work.”

Akashi immediately looked away, flushing slightly. Kuroko wondered if he felt guilty about calling Kuroko out just to keep him silent about what he knew. On one hand, he wasn’t here to hold Akashi’s secrets over his head; on the other hand, if he was blunt and said straight out he wouldn’t tell anyone, Akashi would find an excuse to end their meeting. Just for a while, Kuroko decided to edge around the subject.

“The workload here isn’t as heavy as it was in the countryside, but it keeps you on your toes,” Kuroko said conversationally. “It’s nice to be able to take our time.”

“It was busy, where you were?” Akashi questioned, surprised into curiosity.

“Kagami and I were the only two pilots over there, so were constantly being called out. It was never particularly difficult, of course,” Kuroko commented, keeping his tone casual.

“How do you like that pilot?” Akashi asked as the waitress came by to place Kuroko’s white latte and slice of quiche in front of him.

“Kagami? He’s fine. He’s very similar to Aomine,” Kuroko said, turning his cup of coffee in its saucer thoughtfully. “Perhaps a bit too much.”

Akashi cocked his head curiously. Kuroko shook his head, “Never mind,” he said. “How are you getting along at work? You said you had yesterday off?”

Akashi pursed his lips. “Fine. They’ve given me a list of positions, I’m supposed to choose between them.”

“What are your choices?” Kuroko asked interestedly.

Akashi looked discomfited. “Nothing you wouldn’t expect. A position as an instructor, that sort of thing.” Kuroko blinked, slowly. Did he not know?

“Okay,” he said, trying to keep it vague, “well, it’s good that they gave you options. I was worried that you wouldn’t have any say about what happened to you.”

“Yes, it’s fortunate,” Akashi replied. He was beginning to look more anxious as the conversation stretched on without either of them broaching the subject they had come for.

Kuroko picked at his quiche, feeling uncomfortable. He should bring it up now, he supposed. “I was surprised to see you so,” he searched for a neutral word, “disorganized, yesterday.”

Akashi was visibly trying not to fidget now, making tiny aborted movements. “Yes, it’s been difficult to keep up with work taking so much time lately.” Kuroko highly doubted Akashi’s workload had been very high. He had the impression Akashi was put in a cushy position to ease him back into work.

“Have you thought about getting a maid?” Kuroko said to his plate, eyebrows furrowed. Not even a house cleaner entered the flat. It was beginning to feel less like a home and more like an isolation cell.

“I suppose I just didn’t have the time for it,” Akashi said. Kuroko became aware he was interrogating Akashi, who was already uncomfortable.

“It must be hard, trying to keep such a large flat neat,” Kuroko said helpfully. He pressed a thumb to his lips thoughtfully, an idea quickly forming in his mind. “Actually, you might be able to help me,” he said, his spine straightening a little in excitement. “Kagami is moving back in with Himuro soon, and I’ll be in need of a place to stay,” Kuroko elaborated, making it up as he went along. “Since you have a spare room already, could let me stay at your place for a while?” Kuroko requested, his cheeks beginning to flush. Akashi’s eyes were widening; he was caught completely off-guard.

“I know it’s an imposition, but it wouldn’t be right away, and I can help with the chores while I’m there,” Kuroko continued, on a roll now.

Akashi was frowning in confusion. “No, that’s – Kagami is moving out?” he clarified, looking at Kuroko with suspicion. Kuroko nodded, trying to suppress a smile. He felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders: he’d been worrying about Akashi this whole time, and he felt like he had the solution in his hands.

“Well,” Akashi said, troubled, “If Kagami is moving out, then of course you can stay at my place if you need to,” he said. Hearing the reluctance in his own voice, he amended, “I’d be glad to have you.”

“Thank you,” Kuroko said, smiling genuinely now.

“When did Kagami decide to move in with Himuro?” Akashi asked. He seemed to be a bit hung up on the sudden change in the conversation.

“A while ago,” Kuroko said vaguely. If he stayed any longer, Akashi would surely rip his story to shreds. “Anyways, it’s unfortunate, but I have to go now,” he said briskly. “I’ll see you around.”

Akashi’s eyes were narrowed at him as he stood up and went to the register to pay his bill. He trailed behind Kuroko slowly, the gears visibly turning in his head.

“I suppose your rent is already canceled, then,” he said to Kuroko.

Kuroko hummed noncommittally, and stated “This is our last month” in an attempt to stay vague on the details. Akashi couldn’t check Kuroko’s rent status, could he? The powers of Akashi’s wealth had always seemed dubious to Kuroko. He halted that train of thought. Akashi wouldn’t go that far just to catch him lying; that would be ridiculous, Kuroko assured himself. _Then again_ , he thought as he eyed Akashi, _he doesn’t quite know the meaning of going too far, does he?_

He’d cancel the lease that day just to be sure.

“Well, I’ll see you later, then,” Kuroko said, waving to Akashi. Akashi waved back, his expression starting to clear as he worked out what was going on. If he could discern that Kuroko was lying, he could surely figure out why. Kuroko walked away before he could get embarrassed.

Once he had walked a safe distance away, Kuroko pulled out his phone, checking around him to make sure Akashi wasn’t nearby. He could be prone to eavesdropping when he felt like it. The phone rang for a few moments before Kagami picked up.

“What is it?” he asked.

“If anybody asks from now on, you’re moving in with Himuro,” Kuroko said lowly. It would be just like Akashi to try to catch him in the lie. He needed to move fast.

“What? Since when?” Kagami demanded.

“Doesn’t he have a room ready for you already? You’re the one who insisted on living away,” Kuroko pointed out.

“Did Tatsuya set you up to this?” Kagami asked suspiciously.

“No. Listen, I’ll explain it to you later,” Kuroko said impatiently. “Just tell Himuro.”

“What?” Kagami cried.

Kuroko huffed. Kagami would ruin everything like this. “Just tell him you’re moving in. And,” he thought of another thing, “tell him if anyone asks then you were planning to for a while now.”

“No way! I’m not moving out,” Kagami resisted.

“No, _I’m_ moving out,” Kuroko explained. “So just tell Himuro now.”

“Why are you moving out? Where did this come from?” Kagami questioned, growing more confused.

Kuroko looked at his phone gravely. It was time for last resorts. “Move in with Himuro right now or I’ll tell Aomine about the time you got drunk at the onsen,” he threatened.

“You said you wouldn’t tell anyone!” Kagami sputtered.

“Desperate times call for desperate measures, Kagami,” Kuroko said calmly. “Now go tell Himuro.”

Kagami groaned dramatically. “But he’s like a _mom_ ,” he complained. Kuroko hung up now that his plan was secured. _It wouldn’t have to be like this if Akashi weren’t so stubborn_ , he thought, dissatisfied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuckin finally  
> This fic should (hopefully) be more fun from now on. Opinions in the comments welcome, as always.


	7. Chapter 7

Kuroko sat on a bench, hands clasped together. There was nothing much for him to do when he was on call like this. TEKO hadn’t bothered to give Kuroko a faux desk job – he just had to hang around the complex for hours in case he was needed. He sighed, bored, and leaned back against the wall behind him, eyes tilted towards the ceiling. Down the hall, a familiar gait clicked towards him.

“You’re not sulking, are you?” Kuroko said wearily.

The sound of walking stopped as the man considered him.

“No,” Kagami said plainly. “At least Tatsuya is happy,” he added drily. “And we spend a lot of time with each other, anyways.” Kuroko felt relief course through him at the admission. He needed Kagami on his side. “That’s not what’s bothering me.”

Kuroko’s eyes slowly tore themselves from the ceiling to Kagami’s face. The fluorescent lighting robbed his face of its usual color as he stared at Kuroko sullenly. Kuroko felt a desire to leave the building and see him in natural light. “So what, then,” he asked instead.

Kagami’s brow furrowed. “You’re being too impatient,” he said bluntly. “He has to get better in his own time.”

“I just want to help him,” Kuroko said defensively.

“You feel guilty,” Kagami asserted. Kuroko looked away silently. Kagami sighed, pulling back. “None of that was our fault. The sooner you realize that, the better for everyone.” With those parting words, he walked away. Kuroko resumed staring at the ceiling listlessly. He recalled the parting look of pity in Kagami’s eyes.

∞

Seijuurou stared around his apartment, determined not to be daunted. It was massive – he should really just hire someone – but he needed something to keep himself busy at the moment, anyways, and he didn’t feel comfortable letting a stranger see his mess.

He started in the living room area, filling trash bags with papers he didn’t need anymore and all the trash he had let accumulate. Slowly, the surfaces of his floor and table became cleared as trash bags filled. He’d have to visit the larger garbage disposal center on the ground floor to get it all out of his flat immediately.

He couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty as he looked at everything that had accumulated over the past month or so. He recalled Tetsuya’s shock at seeing it. _Did I disappoint him?_ he wondered. Seijuurou sat down for a moment, feeling physically drained. In retrospect, he hadn’t eaten anything that morning, and it was beginning to take its toll. His fridge was empty, and he wasn’t even done cleaning the living room. He still needed to clean the other rooms and prepare the spare room for Tetsuya. Seijuurou wondered for the first time why he had gotten such a large living space for one person – it was much smaller than the branch house, to be sure, but he had slowly realized over time that the accommodations he was used to were much larger than most people ever encountered. And now it was coming back to haunt him. Seijuurou laid back on the polished hardwood floor, and lay still for a long moment.

He didn’t even know if it was a good idea to take Tetsuya in. The whole story about Kagami was suspect; Tetsuya had probably made it up as an excuse. But to what end? Tetsuya was caring towards all his friends, but this was above and beyond. Or did he just think that Seijuurou was incapable of taking care of himself? Seijuurou felt trapped; he wasn’t sure if he should be touched at the proposal or insulted. No; the real question was if he could even handle cohabitation. He would need to keep up with every little thing he had let slip – cleaning, laundry, keeping the fridge filled. On top of all that, he hadn’t figured out what to do about work. Swirling anxiety filled his abdomen like a swelling balloon. He lay on the ground, feeling like he was being slowly crushed by the weight of his fear.

∞

Kagami carried another stack of boxes in the door, hauling it to his new room. “It’ll take a while,” he said to Himuro, “so I’ll just it over every weekend until we’re done.”

Kuroko leaned on the frame of the doorway, half-listening. He watched Murasakibara dig through the cupboards in the kitchen, pulling out his favorite snacks. Murasakibara tore open a package, taking a huge bit from what looked like a candy bar. He wasn’t looking at Kuroko.

Kuroko shifted his gaze downward, his arm coming to cradle his abdomen protectively as his heart sank. He turned away, stepping into the other room where Kagami and Himuro were discussing the details of his move in.

Himuro glanced at him as he moved through the room silently, his gaze skidding over hangings on the wall without really focusing on them. To his surprise, he heard the quiet rustling of Murasakibara following him into the room. Kuroko would have expected him to retreat into his room until the commotion was over.

“Come on,” Himuro said to Kagami, “We should start unpacking your things while we have the time.”

Murasakibara remained in the room with Kuroko, impassively watching him. “Are you moving in with Akashi on orders from TEKO?” he asked, his voice deceptively bored. Kuroko glanced at him, surprised.

“No,” he said, his voice colored with his shock at the suggestion. Murasakibara looked into his eyes, trying to read his face, and then left the room.

Kuroko clutched at his arm self-consciously. _If the answer was yes, they would’ve taken Kagami anyways,_ Kuroko thought. _He would have taken my last friend until I was completely alone._ It was moments like these where it was hard not to remember the wide chasm that existed between Kuroko and the rest of Akashi’s ex-team. It was all pretense, right up until the moments that mattered. Then the boundaries between them became clear. Kuroko remembered with some pain Kise dodging his questions before. There was a time when he would have confided in Kuroko. There was a time when Murasakibara would have trusted him. That time was gone now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter very nearly didn't get out at all. better late than never haha


	8. Chapter 8

Tetsuya knelt across from him, spine erect. A low table stood between them. Deep in the shadows, Seijuurou could barely make out his eyes. Everything was tinged with the dim greyish blue of nighttime. Starlight filtered in through the windows to leave lightly mottled patterns across his face. Tetsuya’s head tilted down to where a cup of tea was steaming on the table. Seijuurou couldn’t make out any expression from his face. Seijuurou’s chest tightened with aching pain.

“It’s time to go,” Tetsuya whispered.

Seijuurou felt a sudden force from deep in his gut, crawling up his throat, and lurched forwards as he vomited a dark liquid. Confused, he watched it spread across the table with the slow viscosity of blood, pitch black in the darkness.

“It’s time to go,” came the whisper again, more urgent this time. Seijuurou clutched at his stomach, still heaving, the heavy tang of blood filling his mouth until he choked on it.

Something hooked into the back of Seijuurou’s shirt, where it began to pull him backwards, away from the table. Tetsuya was dragging him, pulling further and further away from the table. Seijuurou’s eyes fixed on the table where steam slowly wafted upwards from the cup of tea.

Someone was knocking on the door. Seijuurou groaned, rolling out of bed reluctantly. He’d been up all night cleaning the apartment, getting it ready for Tetsuya. Now, his body felt like it made of lead. Seijuurou plodded across the room, feet dragging on the floor. Grabbing the door knob, Seijuurou leaned his weight upon the door as he swung it open, wishing he could lie down. On the other side, Tetsuya waited patiently, his lips quirking with amusement at Seijuurou’s appearance before he controlled his reaction.

“Good morning,” Tetsuya greeted. His bags lay on the floor next to him. Seijuurou internally groaned: he must have slept through his alarm again. It was already time for Tetsuya to move in.

“Good morning,” he said, voice cracking. He cleared it hurriedly, and Tetsuya picked up his bags, his face tilted downwards to mask any reaction. Seijuurou stepped aside to let Tetsuya in.

Tetsuya viewed the apartment, clearly surprised. “You cleaned it recently,” he said, surprised. Seijuurou tried not to flush as he thought of how the apartment looked before. Tetsuya turned back towards him, perturbed. “You didn’t have to do that alone,” Tetsuya protested guiltily, “I would have helped.”

Seijuurou closed the door, walking ahead to disguise his discomfort. “It was no trouble,” he said. Leading the way, he stepped towards the guest room, opening the door. “You can settle in here,” he said, stepping aside so Tetsuya could enter the room.

Tetsuya stepped forward, placing his bags near the foot of the bed. “Thank you,” he said over his shoulder. Turning fully, he continued, “I suppose I’ll be needing a key for the door.”

Seijuurou froze; he still was not used to having a locked door all the time. “Right,” he said, “I was just about to go make a copy.” He had intended to make a copy of the key, he remembered, before Tetsuya arrived.

“Should I come with?” Tetsuya offered.

“No, you settle in here,” Seijuurou said, moving backwards already. He had fallen asleep in his clothes from yesterday, a bad habit that had come about from staying up too late until he was too tired to change before falling asleep. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” Tetsuya agreed. Seijuurou walked back into the other room where he fetched his key and his wallet. He hesitated at the door, wondering if he should say something to Tetsuya again, but decided against it, swinging the door shut behind him.

∞

Kuroko looked around the room, intimidated by its sheer size. The place he had shared with Kagami had been nothing like this – a typical two bedroom apartment, on the small size, did not even compare with the kind of lifestyle Akashi was used to. Kuroko walked back into the spacious living room. Without the mess he had been distracted by last time he was here, Kuroko was awed by the space of the room. A kitchen area transitioned into a living room, where a couch sat facing a large television. Kuroko doubted Akashi had ever used it.

Kuroko began to explore the kitchen area. Everything had been cleaned meticulously – the marble countertop reflected the natural light filtering in through the windows. Walking towards them, Kuroko stared outside for a moment, appreciating the view. Stretching from floor to ceiling, the windows gave an impressive view of downtown Tokyo, the cars below slowly filtering through the streets like insects in a line.

Moving on, Kuroko peered into the guest bathroom before moving on to Akashi’s room. His bedroom was clearly the least well-cleaned, most likely because Kuroko would not be using it personally. Akashi’s room sat on the corner of the building, giving him two walls of blue sky and looming buildings to look at. It was probably beautiful at night. Kuroko stepped out of the room, feeling paranoid about Akashi coming back to find him snooping in his bedroom.

Beyond Akashi’s room, there was his study – a large room that had probably been another bedroom before it was converted. Kuroko suspected the apartment could be used to raise a small family, with a master bedroom, two possible bedrooms, and two bathrooms total. Nonetheless, Akashi lived here alone. But that was probably what he was used to.

At the far end of the apartment, there was a laundry room fitted with a washer and dryer. Kuroko leaned against the dryer machine as he thoughtfully examined the detergent that Akashi used. He would have to know how to use this from now on, after all. A clicking sounded from the other room: Akashi had returned. Kuroko stepped to the doorframe, calling out “Akashi?”  
Akashi peered into the hallway, noting his change in location. Stepping forward, he held out a key to Kuroko. “The washer is high efficiency, you can only use some detergents with it,” he said. “You can take care of your own clothes. The same goes for buying groceries. I don’t normally go shopping so you’ll have to buy it yourself. Don’t come into my room,” he continued brusquely. “The garbage is disposed of downstairs – you’ll have to sort it first. I keep several bags…” Akashi continued talking as he walked back towards the kitchen, most likely to give Kuroko a thorough tour of how to use it. _He doesn’t actually expect me to remember all this, does he…_ Kuroko wondered, feeling overwhelmed. All the same, he couldn’t help but feel reassured. This felt much more like the captain he knew, twenty steps ahead in his thought process and impatient when others didn’t keep up. Kuroko stepped forward, heartened.

∞

Kuroko stared at the sink, disheartened. He hadn’t paid attention when Akashi had been talking about the kitchen and now he was paying the price. It was a Saturday in the apartment; Akashi was still in his room.

Rather than taking on the risks of making an entire breakfast, Kuroko decided to boil some tea and be done with it. Coffee was far too bitter for him to tolerate on weekends. With his cup in hand, Kuroko wandered around the apartment aimlessly. As he looked down at the table, a small pile of envelopes caught his eye. “Araki Masako, PhD, LPC” read the return address of one envelope. A therapist? Since when was Akashi seeing a therapist… Kuroko looked at the closed door behind which Akashi rested. Steam slowly wafted upwards from his mug to mix with the air as he contemplated the silence from the other room. Kuroko wasn’t sure if he’d be welcomed if he entered Akashi’s room. He wasn’t sure if he was welcome here at all. He set his mug on the table and left to get dressed in his own room, half-shaded by the blinds despite the harsh morning light slanting through the large windows of his room. Sliding into a T-shirt and shorts, Kuroko decided he may as well watch some morning television while he waited for Akashi to wake up. Stepping back into the living room, he paused to notice Akashi was awake. Standing at the entrance to his room with shadowed eyes, Akashi stared at the steaming mug with an oddly startled expression. Kuroko cleared his throat, and Akashi slowly turned to look at him silently.

“Good morning,” Kuroko said nervously. Akashi was looking like he’d completely forgotten why Kuroko was here.

“Good morning,” Akashi replied slowly.

Akashi stared at him for a moment. “What kind of tea is that?” he asked.

Kuroko glanced down at his cup, surprised. “Just oolong.”

Akashi hummed tonelessly.

“Prefer coffee to tea?” Kuroko asked, trying to break the mood.

“I suppose so…” Akashi shook his head slightly, and seemed to escape whatever thoughts had consumed him. “Excuse me,” he said abruptly, and turned back into his room. Bemused, Kuroko looked around for what had disturbed Akashi. He hadn’t said something about making tea when he made that speech yesterday, had he? Kuroko was starting to wish he had taken notes.

Kuroko approached the cup, and staring into his blurry reflection in its surface for a long moment. Everything he did seemed to come out wrong, lately. For a short period, Kuroko felt self-doubt picking its way up his spine – but soon, even that gave way to deep exhaustion in his heart.

He threw away the tea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heeeyyyyyyyyyyyyyy guyssssssssssss hahaha,, remember this fic? yeahhhh me too hahahahhahaa  
> yeah,,,,,,,,,, this is still a thing.....................  
> i've got a bit pre-written this time so let's give this "daily update" thing another whirl for a while... haha... well who knows if anyone is subbed anyways, right, fuck it


	9. Chapter 9

Seijuurou sat cross-legged on the floor, daylight slanting into his room from behind him. Alone in his room like this, it seemed strangely large to fit just one person.

He wondered what Tetsuya was thinking, in the other room. Seijuurou’s fingers lightly traced over the carpeting in his room, catching on its rough surface. Tetsuya had to think he was strange, always reacting in odd and unpredictable ways.

The first thing he should do, of course, is take a shower and get dressed... but from where he was sitting, the bathroom seemed a mile away. In the silence, Seijuurou felt peaceful.

It was odd to feel the presence of someone so quiet even when he was in the other room, but Seijuurou supposed he had never shared a living space before. His father had always left early in the morning. Their dinners together had felt like a scheduled rendezvous, but in the main house Seijuurou could live in one branch and he could live in another, and both by themselves.

Tetsuya wasn’t the same as his father, however. He would poke his head in soon, curious. With a heaving sigh, Seijuurou pried himself from the ground, walking to the bathroom. Turning the faucet, Seijuurou put a hand under the water until it felt warm enough, and quickly stripped down to step inside. As the spray gradually heated, leaden thoughts crept back into his mind.

He wondered what Tetsuya was doing in the other room. Perhaps he had left already. Most likely he was sitting in front of the TV, waiting silently for Seijuurou to return.

Seijuurou squeezed shampoo onto his hand, pushing his fingers into his hair. His eyes closed instinctively as soap threatened to reach them, and in the sudden darkness, he couldn’t help the unease that crept back into him. Scrubbing vigorously, he tried to quickly finish up so he could rinse the soap from his face and open his eyes again. With his eyes closed, he felt like someone was in the room with him. Tetsuya was so quiet, he could enter without Seijuurou ever noticing it. At that thought, Seijuurou’s eyes flew open.

Of course, no one was there.

Eyes stinging, Seijuurou turned his face into the spray. He didn’t enjoy taking showers, lately.

After he was done with his shower, Seijuurou stopped to shave in front of the mirror. The glass had completely fogged over, leaving his reflection a blurry figure of pale skin and red hair. He had the routine down enough that he didn’t need his reflection, anyways.

Seijuurou patiently applied shaving cream, taking up his razor to cleanly swipe away the cream. There was something very satisfying about a thorough shave, he thought as he dragged the blade across his skin.

Slowly, as the pure white slowly disappeared from his face, the mist evaporated from the mirror’s surface. Bit by bit, his reflection became clearer.

Seijuurou’s hair was longer than he liked it, obscuring his vision when he let it hang down in the front. He was tempted to just cut it out of the way, but he’d been informed that wasn’t the proper way of cutting hair. He needed to visit the barber’s.

Wiping away the last of the shaving cream, Seijuurou quickly turned away from the mirror to avoid looking at the rest of his reflection; he was well aware he had lost weight.

Instead, he entered his closet, and pulled a T-shirt and boxers from a dresser on one side of the closet before carelessly pulling them on.

At this point, Seijuurou felt tired. He wished he could take a nap and be done with the day. Tetsuya was waiting in the other room, however.

When Seijuurou entered the room this time, the scent of coffee filled the room. Tetsuya sat on the couch, watching the news on the large flat screen television. The room was silent except for the gurgling of the coffee maker and the quiet murmur from the television.

Seijuurou poured himself a cup of coffee, pondering what to say.

“Have you eaten?” he called out.

Tetsuya craned his head around to look at him. “I don’t usually, in the morning,” he said.

Seijuurou frowned disapprovingly. There was nothing he could do about it when the refrigerator was empty. Seijuurou felt caught between his instincts: Tetsuya wasn’t a guest, but Seijuurou wasn’t used to him living there, either. “I need to go to the store,” he said aloud.

“I’ll go with,” Tetsuya offered. “I need to know where the store is, anyways”

Seijuurou turned fully around, pausing for a half second before going to sit next to Tetsuya on the couch.

“Anything interesting happening?” he asked, taking a sip from his coffee.

Tetsuya turned the volume of the TV up a bit so they could hear it better.

“Not really,” he said. “Nothing we don’t already know.”

Seijuurou looked at the television, where footage played of Evas as they fell into buildings, crushing the infrastructure like it was paper. The footage cut to a pretty reporter talking about the southwest prefectures, where the last pocket of radicals were believed to be developing their ripped-off Eva technology. It wouldn’t surprise Seijuurou if footage of Tetsuya’s Eva had popped up while he was in the shower. He had been there until recently.

Seijuurou reached for the controller, turning the channel to a basketball game. He didn’t want to think about Evas at the moment.

The two of them watched the game, the air between them still and silent. It was, Seijuurou realized, peaceful.

∞

“He’s moved in already?” Shintaro’s voice cut in over the line. From the other room, muffled sounds of the television leaked through the cracks around the door.

“Yes. Is that a problem?” Seijuurou asked, already knowing how bothered Shintaro was.

Shintaro huffed. “Well, it’s not my place to say,” he conceded. “Just…”

Seijuurou tilted his head against the phone, waiting. “Yes?”

“…Nothing.” For a moment, Shintaro simply breathed over the line. “That guy...”

Seijuurou’s eyebrows raised. It was unlike Shintaro to be so inarticulate.

Shintaro released a frustrated sigh. “I don’t like him. That’s all.”

“Hmmm,” Seijuurou replied. He had always known Shintaro and Tetsuya didn’t get along – why was Shintaro bringing it up now? “I think I know the extent of your grievances, Midorima,” he said a bit condescendingly. That extent being nothing at all, really. Tetsuya and Shintaro simply had incompatible personalities.

“No, that’s not… you don’t know everything,” Shintaro muttered.

“What is it, did he steal your favorite toy?” Seijuurou asked.

Silence came over the line. Sensing he had been too derisive, Seijuurou added, “Or is it something more?”

Shintaro took a moment to respond. “He didn’t have to go on duty while you were at the hospital,” he muttered.

“Is that what this is about?” Seijuurou wondered aloud. It would be the first time Shintaro admitted to the root of the problem when asked. He began to wonder if there was something more to this.

“That’s it,” Shintaro confirmed. Seijuurou’s suspicion grew.

“How forthcoming of you to let me know,” he said smoothly. “There wouldn’t be anything else you’re worrying about, would there?”

Shintaro took a moment too long to respond.

“Midorima, please.” Seijuurou shifted from one foot to the other impatiently.

“It’s a bit odd of him to want to move in so suddenly, isn’t it?” Shintaro pointed out.

Seijuurou pursed his lips uncomfortably; he didn’t want to talk about this.

“Is it really?” he deflected. He didn’t want Shintaro to know about Tetsuya stumbling across the state of his room. It was… Seijuurou pushed down a wave of shame that washed over him when he thought of how he had lost his grip recently.

“Yes, it’s odd. When he didn’t bother to stick around when you were in the hospital?” Shintaro pushed.

“Kuroko is my friend too, isn’t he?” Seijuurou questioned softly. “And it was convenient for both of us, anyways.”

Shintaro grunted in disbelief. He had probably been talking to Murasakibara.

“Just leave it alone,” Seijuurou instructed. Shintaro wasn’t his mother; there was a limit to how much of his probing Seijuurou would tolerate, and Shintaro knew it.

“Very well,” Shintaro agreed reluctantly.

“Take care of yourself, Midorima,” Seijuurou said more gently.

“And you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave a comment or i kill all ur faves in the next chapter  
> i mean it guys :(


	10. Chapter 10

“Ready to go?” Akashi asked, standing by the door.

“Just a moment,” Kuroko replied from the other room. He stepped out, pocketing his wallet. “Is the store far?” he asked.

“Not particularly,” Akashi replied. They both stepped into the elevator, one wall of which was a window. They both looked down on the city, which was beginning to sparkle in the fading orange light. The sun hung just over the horizon. Kuroko looked over at Akashi, whose hair was beginning to blend with the light that filled the elevator car. Looking at their transparent reflections in the glassy surface of the elevator walls, Kuroko noticed his own hair had been dyed the colors of the setting sun. It almost seemed as if they were warped reflections of the same person without the difference in hair color.

Kuroko caught Akashi’s gaze in his reflection and held it for a moment. Unease twisted in his gut, and Kuroko looked down at his feet for the remainder of the elevator ride.

Akashi led the way out of the lobby and into the darkening streets of Tokyo, which was slowly transitioning into a sickly pink.

“It’s a beautiful time of day, isn’t it?” Kuroko asked, eyes fixed on Akashi’s back.

Akashi turned back to read his expression. Kuroko didn’t know what Akashi was trying to find, but he replied “I suppose so” neutrally.

Kuroko fell silent. It might be better not to force conversation. After a few minutes of walking in silence, Kuroko noticed the gap between them was growing and quickened his pace to match Akashi’s brisk stride.

Glancing over at him, Akashi slowed slightly. “Are you finding the place alright?” he asked considerately.

“It’s a bit different from what I’m used to,” Kuroko admitted.

“You can ask me about anything you need to,” Akashi offered.

Kuroko suppressed a sigh. He wanted to ask how Akashi was doing. He wanted to ask if it had really taken him until noon to wake up, and what he had been doing last night to keep him up late. He wanted to ask when he would be back at work; how long he had been in therapy; what he remembered from months before.

Kuroko sighed lowly, and remained silent. If every conversation stumbled upon taboo topics, Akashi would just go back to distancing himself. But while questions bounced around Kuroko’s mind, it was hard to remember what else there was to talk about.

Before, Kuroko and Akashi had always just talked about work. They had met through work, after all. Without that crutch to fall on, Kuroko was slowly beginning to realize how little he knew about Akashi.

“How long have you lived here?” Kuroko asked, curious now.

“Since I was chosen as an Eva pilot,” Akashi replied. “So, almost three years now.”

“Where did you live before?” Kuroko continued. This was a safe topic, he felt.

“I lived in the branch house for a while, in Kyoto,” Akashi answered. Kuroko felt his eyebrows quirk upwards; branch house implied there was more than one.

“Did you live alone there, too?” Kuroko asked. He doubted it; Akashi would’ve been just a high school student at the time.

“Yes,” Akashi said tonelessly. He fell silent again. Kuroko began to wonder if it wasn’t a good topic, after all. “My father lived in the main house. But, there were servants that lived with me in the branch house. I wasn’t totally alone.”

Kuroko wished he could see Akashi’s face. Breaking into a light jog, he pulled even with Akashi and looked at him. Akashi’s expression was placid. This was how it always was for him, Kuroko realized. There was no reason for him to react to it.

“Where is the main house?” Kuroko asked.

“In Tokyo,” Akashi replied.

“Why didn’t you move back in?” Kuroko pressed.

Akashi continued to look ahead, eyes searching for some hidden answer. “It wasn’t particularly close. There was no need.”

Kuroko let the subject drop.

Akashi seemed to sense the conversation had stalled, as he glanced over at Kuroko expectantly. “What about you?” he asked.

“Oh,” Kuroko said, startled. “I was already moved out of my parents’ house when I was picked, since I had just started university. It would have felt odd to move back in.”

“What were you studying?” Akashi asked quietly.

“Literature,” Kuroko replied. “I don’t know what I would have ended up doing, though.”

“I always knew I was going to take over my father’s company,” Akashi said.

Kuroko couldn’t imagine what that would be like. His youth was overshadowed with the anxiety of what career path to choose, but he couldn’t say he appreciated having the choice taken from him. “It would have been nice to choose, though,” he said wistfully.

Akashi didn’t reply, turning his head away.

Shortly after, Akashi pointed out the store they were heading for.

Pushing through the swinging front door, they stopped to look for a moment to gauge the layout of the store. “What do we need?” Kuroko wondered aloud.

Akashi decisively headed to the right end of the store, grabbing a basket along the way. Kuroko trailed after, assuming he knew what he was doing.

First was the produce section. Kuroko stared at the wall of fresh vegetables, feeling daunted. His skill level at cooking ended at boiling things. Akashi stared at the selection, seeming to deliberate on what he wanted. After a moment, he turned to Kuroko.

“Do we need any of this?” he asked bluntly. Kuroko stared at him for a moment, dismayed. He has no idea what he’s doing.

“I don’t,” Kuroko replied simply. As they walked past the fresh vegetables section, he began to wonder what the point of them coming here was when neither of them knew what to buy. Kagami had always done the buying and cooking for the both of them, and in the brief period Kuroko lived on his own, he had lived almost entirely off convenient store food.

Akashi kept walking briskly, but Kuroko was beginning to suspect it was just to disguise the fact that he was aimlessly wandering around.

“We could get some pre-prepared side dishes,” Kuroko suggested. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to have to cook anything complicated.”

“I had a cook hired,” Akashi said absentmindedly. “Perhaps I should hire her again.”

Kuroko cringed at the thought of having a cook make his meals. “I don’t think that’s necessary,” he said delicately. “What do you normally eat?”

Akashi paused. “Tofu soup,” he answered.

“Then, we would need soup stock and tofu, right?” Kuroko said. It sounded vaguely right, anyways.

Akashi back-tracked to the fresh foods section to pick up a pack of tofu while Kuroko picked up the stock. Feeling like they were a little less lost now, Kuroko began to think about easy things to make.

“We should get eggs,” Kuroko said to Akashi once he returned. “They’re fairly simple.”

While they were at it, they picked up the side dishes, some natto, and a bag of rice. Kuroko felt vaguely guilty as Akashi lugged around the significantly heavier basket, but decided if it looked heavy while Akashi was carrying it, it would only be worse with Kuroko.

They wandered into the freezer section where the meat and fish were laid out. “Fish...” Akashi trailed off.

“Salmon is probably fine,” Kuroko was already reaching for a package. “More importantly, let’s get some meat.”

“Steak?” Akashi prompted.

“No, that’s... expensive...” Kuroko faltered at Akashi’s blank look. “Never mind. Pork is fine.”

Feeling a stronger urge to monitor Akashi’s choices, Kuroko tugged lightly at his sleeve to signal him to follow as he picked up some milk and then sugar.

“What is that for?” Akashi asked, perplexed.

“I don’t like straight coffee.” Kuroko loaded a box of sugar packets into their basket.

Akashi frowned. “But to add sugar... how can you even taste the coffee?”

“Maybe I don’t want to,” Kuroko defended. “I don’t like bitter things.”

Akashi’s expression settled into disapproval. “Well, we’re not getting ice cream, either way,” he asserted.

Kuroko quashed his disappointment. “I wasn’t expecting to,” he said, somewhat miffed. Of course Akashi wouldn’t be as lax as Kagami was.

By the time the two of them exited the store, it was dark outside.

Beginning to feel the hollow ache of hunger in his side, Kuroko wished Akashi would slow down a bit on the way back. It was embarrassing enough to have him take all the bags like it was natural, without Kuroko still having to break into a half-jog every once in a while to keep up.

But Akashi seemed to have receded into his head, and the walk back was a quiet one, filled only with the sounds of nearby traffic and occasional bouts of conversation.

That night, they shared a grilled salmon and a side of soup - or rather, Kuroko had soup. From the point that Kuroko had heated the miso, Akashi’s nose had wrinkled involuntarily as he identified the scent.

“Seaweed...” Kuroko heard Akashi mutter from behind him as he stood in front of the stove. “Why do people waste good tofu on seaweed soup?”

Gripping his spoon with repressed irritation, Kuroko suppressed the childish urge to hunch over his soup protectively for the rest of the evening. Now he would have to go back to the store to get something Akashi liked. Kuroko wondered when even a single interaction between them would go smoothly.

When the fish was done grilling, Kuroko pushed it at Akashi. “You can have the whole thing, since I’m eating all the soup.”

“That’s not necessary,” Akashi replied as he cut himself a piece. Not bothering to set the table, they leaned over their small meal at the marble countertop. “I’m not that hungry as it is.”

Kuroko grimaced, sure that Akashi was being polite. However, as the time ticked past it became clear that Akashi really wasn’t hungry; he had taken half the fish, but was picking at it disinterestedly before he was even halfway done. By the time he retreated to the kitchen to discard the rest of his meal, Kuroko understood why Akashi had lost weight recently, when even after skipping breakfast and lunch he could not work up an appetite.

Sitting alone, Kuroko found he quickly lost interest in his food, and wrapped up the rest of the fish to be eaten some other time. Slowly, as he put the food away and cleaned the dishes, a sickened kind of regret filled him. He had worried that moving in like this would be an intrusion into Akashi’s space, but Akashi seemed as distant as ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three funnybois left kudos just to rub it in my face that they *could* have commented if they felt like it.  
> just end me. just. end me.  
> no it's ok. i'm not hurt. IM FINE


	11. Chapter 11

Seijuurou woke to the sounds of clinking from the other room. Shaking off his lethargy, Akashi hauled himself into sitting position. White gold light slanted through his windows from high in the sky. He had woken up before noon.

Seijuurou stretched for an extended moment, still nestled in his warm covers. He lumbered to his bedroom door, swinging it open. For the second day in a row, the scent of coffee greeted him. Tetsuya stood next to the stove in a T-shirt and boxers, hair still ruffled from sleep.

Turning at the sound of the door, Tetsuya smiled upon seeing him. “Good morning,” his voice cracked with sleep.

“Good morning,” Seijuurou returned as he made a beeline for the coffee machine. He poured himself a cup, holding the cup with the tips of his fingers to keep from being burnt. He looked over to where Tetsuya was waiting for a couple of eggs to boil.

“One of these is for you,” Tetsuya said, poking at an egg to make it roll over. “I would make a bigger breakfast, but this is about where my skill level ends.” Seijuurou’s lips curled up at Tetsuya’s disgruntled expression.

“This is fine,” he said. Tetsuya looked up at the comment, flushing. The room seemed very quiet for a moment. Seijuurou could hear Tetsuya's breathing, could hear it catch as he thought of what to say.

“When Kagami moved in with me, he made a big breakfast, just to be polite,” Tetsuya forged on.

“Is that what people do when they move in?” Seijuurou affected a casual tone.

Tetsuya shrugged, more at ease. “It’s what guests do, right?”

“But you’re not a guest,” Seijuurou countered.

Tetsuya looked into his eyes this time. “No,” he said after a pause, then turned back to the eggs. “These are probably done.”

As he strained the steaming water from the eggs, Seijuurou took out a couple of small plates and spoons. Grabbing the salt, he migrated towards the table. Tetsuya had already brought the eggs.

Seijuurou’s eye caught for the first time the mail he had thrown onto the table days ago. Tugging it out of sight, Seijuurou avoided looking at Tetsuya. It was still possible he hadn't noticed.

“I didn’t know you were in therapy,” Tetsuya said, crushing Seijuurou's hopes. Tetsuya tapped his egg to see if it was cool enough to handle, eyes directed away from Seijuurou.

“I’m not,” Seijuurou picked up his egg, ignoring the stinging in his fingertips.

“So no longer?” Tetsuya clarified.

Seijuurou pressed his lips together. “Yes.” He ripped the last of egg shell from the searing egg, all too impatient.

“What changed?” Tetsuya leaned forward, his egg forgotten.

Seijuurou searched for an answer that sounded right. “I didn’t think she could help me anymore,” he muttered, mood diving as he realized the truth of his own statement.

Tetsuya took a moment to process that. Seizing his chance, Seijuurou devoured the egg, ignoring its scalding temperature. He stood up, chair scraping against the floor. Ignoring Tetsuya's sad gaze, Seijurou went to clear off his plate. He paused at the sink. Too late, he realized he had left his dishes for Tetsuya to clean last night. Shame filled him. Seijuurou was turning out to be a terrible roommate.

Seijuurou took a moment to clear off his plate and put it away. His heart thumped in his chest as he waited for Tetsuya to ask more questions. They never came.

Trying to silence his thoughts, Seijuurou retreated to his room. He pulled out his shogi board, calming himself with the orderly placement of the pieces.

∞

Kuroko stood outside Akashi’s door, frustrated. He had called through the door, asking if Akashi wanted dinner, but no response had come. He was tempted to enter anyways, but he knew Akashi would see it as a breach of privacy. Even so, Akashi had disappeared into his room since that morning. Kuroko had not moved in to drive Akashi into his room. He wanted Akashi to rely on him, and talk to him. But that was a trust that he needed to earn.

Sighing, Kuroko retreated back into the kitchen. Tomorrow work started again. If Akashi was still in his room when Kuroko came back, he would go in, privacy or no.

...as such, Kuroko found himself standing outside Akashi’s door the next evening. Most likely he had come out to eat while Kuroko was at work, but Kuroko wasn’t leaving it to chance.

“Akashi?” Kuroko called. He rapped on the door, then counted off thirty seconds in his head. Cracking the door open, he peeked into Akashi's dark bedroom.

Outside the window, clouds tinged lavender by city lights hung low. Their dim glow lifted the pitch black room into a deep indigo, sinister in its shadow and light. “Akashi,” he repeated, injecting more force into his tone.

On the bed, Kuroko thought he could see a lump of covers stirring. He hesitated before stepping in, his hand still on the door frame.

Once more, he called Akashi’s name. The lump twitched once, before sitting up with violent speed. “What,” Akashi croaked.

“Have you eaten anything?” Kuroko asked gently. “You sound thirsty. Should I get you water?”

Akashi sat for a moment before nodding. Kuroko returned to the kitchen to fill a glass with cold water. When he returned, Akashi met him at the door, T-shirt rumpled from sleep. Kuroko wondered if he had changed clothes since yesterday.

“Thank you,” Akashi rasped before gulping down half the glass. Kuroko’s eyes followed as his head tilted back, Adam’s apple working as he swallowed.

Kuroko fidgeted with the edge of his shirt, unsure what to do next. “You must be hungry,” Kuroko decided on, and went to make something.

Looking in the fridge, Kuroko pulled out the tofu and a chunk of pork he had left in the fridge to thaw that morning. Akashi trailed after him, eyes swollen with sleep.

“What do you think of ginger pork?” Kuroko asked, already pulling out the ginger.

“I don’t like ginger,” Akashi muttered.

Kuroko tossed the ginger in the trash, causing Akashi to perk up in interest.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he said insincerely.

Kuroko quashed the urge to roll his eyes, instead asking, “How about pork cutlet bowl?”

“I like it,” Akashi replied.

“Let me look up a recipe,” Kuroko said, pulling out his phone. _We should get a cook book_ , he reflected.

Kuroko scrolled through results on his phone. One recipe promised to take only 20 minutes.

“How about this?” he said, showing it to Akashi.

“You get the rice started, and I'll start the rest,” Akashi commanded.

Pulling out the bag of rice, Kuroko measured out the rice and added it to the rice cooker.

“We have what we need to make it, but we don’t have tonkatsu sauce,” Akashi pointed out, seeming to have fully woken up.

“I’ll run to the store.” He could use a workout. “Do we need anything else?”

“I don’t think so.” Akashi peered at the rice cooker, making sure everything was in order.

Kuroko sighed. He wanted to ask if Akashi could make dinner alone, but was there any need to check? It was Akashi. “I’ll see you in a minute, then,” Kuroko said. Akashi waved a hand in dismissal.

Grabbing his wallet, Kuroko sped toward the elevator. As he had suspected, getting to the store and back in twenty minutes was easier said than done. It took him a little over half an hour. When he did get back, Akashi had already finished.

"Smells good," Kuroko inhaled the warm scent of meat and salt.

“Of course,” Akashi snipped. “I made it.”

Kuroko suppressed a small grin. Pulling out a couple of bowls, Kuroko packed the rice into them before placing the breaded pork on top. Akashi took his bowl, heading to the table. He dug into his bowl, the hunger of not eating for two days catching up to him.

Kuroko sank into his seat with relief, glad to see Akashi eating.

“So, anything interesting happen while I was out?” Kuroko asked. As the words left his mouth, he realized he sounded like an office worker talking to his wife.

Akashi gave him an odd look. “No,” he answered shortly.

Kuroko smiled awkwardly, and dug into his meal. A note of surprise escaped him as he tasted his first bite. Akashi looked up questioningly.

“It’s good,” Kuroko mumbled.

Akashi raised his eyebrows, unimpressed, and returned to his meal.

_So we’re back to this stage..._ Kuroko thought, exhaustion settling over him like a fog. Kuroko wasn’t sure why the silence bothered him - usually preferred it. If he had to guess, it would be the uncomfortable way it hung between them even when they had important things to say. It was hard to shrug off, like a heavy duvet, rather than the clear air that filled the space between good friends.

Kuroko's chest grew heavier. He wondered if the air between him and Akashi could ever be so clear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hardest part of posting a chap is shaving down author's notes, no lie.  
> also, fuck steven king. don't ask me why, there's a story there, AND YES IT RELATES TO THIS CHAPTER.  
> anyways  
> criticism always v v welcome! if u dont wanna comment here, u can leave an ask at my tumblr (bleuchees.tumblr.com) on anon so u don't have to feel uncomfortable abt what i might say back! tho i dont recommend following, its a shit blog if im being honest


	12. Chapter 12

A mosaic of colors writhed before Seijuurou's eyes. He stared ahead at the television, but his vision refused to focus on it. His thoughts attached themselves to his laptop, waiting on the counter.

Seijuurou had been intent on checking his email that morning. As he had suspected, a missive lay in wait from the management. His stomach swooped downward.  


_Dear Akashi Seijuurou:_

_This letter is to confirm that you are being suspended without pay for one month._

_This action is being taken due to your position transfer. In addition, two weeks have passed since the beginning of this suspension._

_You are expected to return to work in two weeks. I expect that you will make your decision within the allotted time._

_Failure to show immediate and sustained improvement in behavior or performance may result in further disciplinary action up to an including forced retirement. For additional information on the progressive discipline policy, please refer to HR 601, Discipline._

 

Fear prickled the back of his neck. No one had ever seen or heard of a retired Eva pilot - for a reason. Knots of tension tightened in his abdomen. It looked like he had become more disposable to TEKO since his "glory days." He was gambling with his life, stalling with his decision.

Seijuurou felt an old ache in his chest. He recalled walking into the screening test for Eva pilots, so unconcerned. The chances of testing positive for Eva compatibility had been so low... he hadn't even tried to escape it. And his mistakes hadn't ended there. He wished, at least, that he had the foresight to spare Tetsuya.

A jarring buzzing thrust him from his slumber-like trance. Seijuurou blinked, wondering if he had fallen asleep for part of the day. He hadn’t slept since Tetsuya woke him yesterday, and he felt exhausted now.

On the table, his cell phone vibrated.

Seijuurou pushed himself from the couch, joints protesting after sitting still for hours. On the table, his phone glowed with a text alert. Picking it up, he saw it was from Tetsuya:

"Should I pick up anything for dinner?"

Bemused, Seijuurou looked around himself. He made his way toward the fridge, peeking inside. Now that he thought of it, they had no protein left besides eggs and natto. After a moment of deliberation, Seijuurou texted a short list, and then sighed. There was one thing he needed to do before Tetsuya came home.

Entering his room, Seijuurou picked through its mess. He ignored the anxious twisting of his stomach; he searched for the folder he discarded days ago. He had never bothered to clean his own room, instead focusing on the rooms where Tetsuya would be. Eventually, he had to clean this room... he discarded the thought. Now was not the time.

Seijuurou opened the folder, pulling out the papers within. It wasn’t a large stack. A few papers were enough for his future options. Seijuurou wondered what assistant had to type these up for Sanada.

Seijuurou’s stomach tightened as his eyes skimmed over the first paper. It described an instructor, Sanada's preferred choice. The one responsible for choosing and traning up new Eva pilots. Seijuurou started to read through the paper, but his mind kept disengaging from the task. He read the first line ten times before he gave up. Tetsuya would be home soon, anyways, and he didn’t want to deal with this right now. Clutching his papers as the sun dropped toward the horizon, Seijuurou began to feel how alone he had been. Everyone in his life lived on the other end of a long telephone line. But Tetsuya was here, now. He would be soon.

The door clicked. A tangled mess of relief and trepidation ballooned in Seijuurou’s chest.

“I’m home,” Tetsuya called from the other room.

Seijuurou walked to the door connecting his room, leaning on the doorframe. At the front door, Tetsuya was taking off his shoes.

“Welcome home,” he greeted.

Tetsuya looked at him, smiling politely. “I got the things you listed,” he lifted a bag from the grocery store. “What are we having tonight?”

“I was thinking of making omurice, but I’m not very hungry.” Seijuurou’s stomach still twisted with lingering tension. “You might have to eat alone.” Tetsuya’s smile ebbed. “Oh,” he recovered, “you don’t have to make anything heavy. Soup is fine.” Tetsuya was being kind again. Even as heavy guilt burrowed into his chest, Seijuurou nodded.

“Okay,” he mumbled.

Tetsuya opened his mouth to speak, then seemed to think better of it, turning his eyes away. It was obvious that he wanted to ask how Seijuurou was doing - if he was okay. Seijuurou was grateful he didn’t.

“Let’s get started on that soup, then,” Tetsuya interrupted his thoughts. “I’ll put the groceries away while you get started.”

They worked in the kitchen without speaking. Tetsuya soon finished with his task, standing at a loss before finding a book to read. Seijuurou stayed in the kitchen area, the cold counter top digging into his hip. Soon, the smell of warm miso soup filled the kitchen.

Tetsuya sat at the table, reading as he waited for the soup to be done. Seijuurou watched it, finger tapping on the counter. The minutes ticked past. Seijuurou turned off the heat and ladled out bowls for the both of them, trying to include as much tofu as possible.

“Thank you,” Tetsuya said as he accepted his bowl. Seijuurou didn’t reply. He looked into his bowl, stirring the soup and watching how the particles shifted in the water. After a while, a clinking sound drew his attention. Tetsuya had set down his spoon and was staring at the table. Seijuurou’s stomach dropped like a stone.

“I know that you would prefer for me to pretend like everything is alright,” Tetsuya started. He seemed loud in the silence of the room. He paused, as Seijuurou’s heartbeat began to speed up with nervous energy. “But you’re not making it easy.”

Tetsuya fixed his gaze on Seijuurou, making his stomach flip-flop. Tetsuya opened his mouth, then paused again. His brow furrowed in concentration.

After a moment, Tetsuya laid his hand on the table between them, palm up. Seijuurou stared at it, confused. The hand remained. Unsure what Tetsuya was doing, he tentatively placed his hand in Tetsuya’s.

Tetsuya smiled at him, most likely as a reassurance. Seijuurou could already feel his chest loosening.

“See? That wasn’t so hard,” Tetsuya said, fingers wrapping around Seijuurou's hand. Seijuurou cocked his head in confusion.

“I need you to meet me halfway. You don’t have to answer any of my questions.” He looked into Seijuurou’s eyes to impress his point. “You don’t. I just want to be able to ask them.”

Seijuurou nodded, frissons of fear skittering across his nerves. Tetsuya continued to hold onto his hand, anchoring him to that table, to that moment.

“Akashi... did anyone else know you were in therapy?” Tetsuya asked, eyes searching his face.

Seijuurou shook his head, throat tight.

Tetsuya’s thumb ran across his knuckles. “Why did you really end therapy?” he asked, his voice lower.

Seijuurou remained silent for a long period.

“It wasn’t because of the reason you told me, was it?” Tetsuya prompted.

“No,” Seijuurou confirmed.

“Akashi... do you need to go back?” Tetsuya held his gaze, expression unwavering.

Seijuurou’s gaze dropped, landing on their joined hands. They had been holding hands for longer than was appropriate, he noted. But when he made to pull away, Tetsuya held on.

“Yes,” he admitted finally. He wasn’t sure upon voicing it - what if she couldn’t help him, after all? - but the answer was out nonetheless.

“I can help you with these things,” Tetsuya said. “That’s why I’m here.”

Seijuurou didn’t know what to say to that. He had known that Tetsuya didn't need to move in, but it was the first time they had acknowledged it aloud.

“Let me help you."

“Okay.” Seijuurou didn't think it would so simple, but he didn't voice his thoughts.

“Okay,” Tetsuya affirmed, releasing his hand with an odd little shake.

_So we’re treating it like a handshake, then_ , Seijuurou thought drily.

Tetsuya turned back to his soup, making a face after tasting it. “Oh,” he said disappointedly, “The soup’s cold.”

Seijuurou smiled, appreciating this delicate peace between them while it lasted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i finally wrangled these assholes^ into holding hands. dammit im gonna make u fall in love whether u like it or not


	13. Chapter 13

“Are you alright to get home by yourself?” Tetsuya asked, a jacket hung over his arm as he loitered at the door. The first cold front of the year had hit. More sensitive to the cold than most, Tetsuya was already bundling up.

“Yes,” Seijuurou replied. Tetsuya had offered to come with him to his appointment, and Seijuurou had agreed. He hadn't wanted to come alone.

Tetsuya hesitated a bit longer before lifting a hand in half-hearted goodbye. “I’ll see you later, then.”

“See you.”

Seijuurou turned away once Tetsuya had stepped out the door. On his other side, the therapist waited for him.

“A friend?” she asked.

“Yes,” Seijuurou answered as he stepped into the room. “My... roommate, of sorts.”

He settled into the couch, placing a folder next to him. Araki’s eyes followed it as she sat down.

“I have something specific to talk to you about today.” Seijuurou crossed his legs, aiming for a brisk demeanor.

He lifted the folder, proffering it to Araki. “I would like some counseling on a decision I have to make.” “Oh?” Araki said, opening the folder.

“I’m being reassigned at work,” Seijuurou explained. “These are my options.”

“You never mentioned this before,” Araki pointed out, fingering through the papers. “What makes you think I’ll be able to help you? I’m not very knowledgeable about TEKO and its positions.” “You don’t have to be,” Seijuurou replied. “I am.” Araki studied his face for a moment before leaning back, letting out a sigh. “Alright,” she sighed. “What are your choices? Explain them to me.” Seijuurou had four options. He could become a pilot again. It was the same position he had held before, and the one that Tetsuya worked in now. He could become an instructor, training up new pilots. He could also become a ground operator. Ground operators directed the Eva pilots from a remote location. Seijuurou suspected his role would be that of a spare Eva pilot. Though not unheard of, it was rare for a captain to become a ground operator. The last option would be in public relations, of course. It was the most distasteful of all the options in Seijuurou’s eyes.

Araki listened to him describing his options, her eyes roving over the papers in her hands. “You were an Eva pilot before,” she commented. “What makes you hesitate to go back?” Seijuurou crossed and uncrossed his legs, then forced himself to sit still. Stillness was the best weapon for negotiating in his experience.

...Not that this was a negotiation.

“It’s been quite a while. Months, in fact.” Seijuurou paused, parsing his thoughts. “They did a test run, in a simulation Eva, back when I was still in the hospital.” Seijuurou forced himself to meet her eyes. “It didn’t go well.” Araki flipped the pen in her hand, considering. “And you’re not ready to talk about it?”

Seijuurou didn’t like it when she put it like that. He _could_ talk about it, if he had to. “Not much to talk about. I can’t remember it.” Araki’s eyebrows flew up, and Seijuurou returned to looking out the window. “Not at all,” he ruminated.

“Okay,” she drew out the word, “So you’re not fit for duty at the moment. But in a perfect world, would you want to go back?”

Seijuurou’s hand tightened into a fist. “Of course,” he said shortly. That was where his friends were. It was where he was meant to be.

“And what about your other choices?” she asked. “An instructor? Are you qualified?”

Seijuurou started to shake his head before stopping himself. “I’m qualified.” He stared out the window. Another topic that was difficult for him. Seijuurou thought of Tetsuya, who was no doubt worrying about him at the moment. He thought of Shintaro. He still didn't know that Seijuurou had ever set foot into a therapist's office. That hadn't stopped his eyes from pinching with worry.

“It’s very similar to what I’ve done before. I did most of the training for Shintaro, and the others.” Glinting light passed over the window as an unseen car rolled past, reflecting light. “I taught Tetsuya everything he knows.”

“So why not an instructor?” Araki prompts.

Seijuurou looks at her, and fights down irrational paranoia. It may be dangerous to speak ill of the government in public, but she was his therapist. She couldn’t divulge information even if she wanted to.

“I don’t want to be the one to sentence children to this life.” It was a selfish statement, but true.

Araki's lips pressed together in sympathy. “It doesn’t have to be all bad.” Araki's finger traced the edge of her clipboard. “What if your students are happy being pilots?”

Seijuurou shook his head. The Generation of Miracles were the government’s most effective weapons to date. They had been the most likely to survive. They had been most likely to be happy, together. He thought of their fragmented group now. It hadn't done them any good.

Seijuurou's hand came to rest upon him mouth, his knuckled pressing into his lips. He wanted distance from the consequences of his actions. He wanted the weight of responsibility upon him to lessen.

Araki sighed, resigned, and moved onto the next topic: “What about public relations?”

Seijuurou shook his head again. He thought of parading around as a pretty figurehead. He could already see all the uncomfortable interviews on television. TEKO's weak attempts to make themselves more palatable to the public were distasteful.

“What about the ground operator position?” Araki asked. “From your reactions to the other positions, it sounds like it’s your only option.”

“Maybe,” Seijuurou replied, fingers tangling in his lap.

Araki put down her clipboard, and glanced at the clock. “Our session will end soon.” She held the papers out for Seijuurou to take back. “How long do you have to decide?”

“A week and a half,” Seijuurou replied, staring at the papers. His mood was beginning to drop as he thought of leaving the session. They hadn't even come to a decision yet.

“Well, it’s not like you can't change your mind, right?”

Seijuurou looked up at Araki, who suppressed a smile. “How about this? You can just settle on the ground operator position, and try it. If you hate it, you can ask for a transfer. I’m sure they’d be willing to accommodate _you_.” She gave him a meaningful look.

Seijuurou grimaced at the emphasis. He didn’t like being reminded of his so-called martyrdom, and Araki knew it - but he supposed it was necessary here.

“Akashi, try not to think too much about this. You won’t know if you like it until you actually try it,” Araki reassured. Of course he could, Seijuurou thought.

“For now, let’s set an appointment for next week. I don’t know about you, but I think this was a very productive session.” She reached for her planner on her desk, flipping through its pages. “You seem to respond well to more goal-oriented discussions,” she noted. She found the page she was looking for, running her finger down it. “What day is good for you?”

“Any day,” Seijuurou replied, “at lunch time.”

Araki hummed, considering her options. “How about the hour after lunch on Thursday?”

Seijuurou sighed, and agreed.

“Rather than thinking too much about work, try to come up with some concrete goals for our future sessions." Seijuurou tried not to chafe at the commanding tone in her voice. He stood up, making for the door. “And Akashi?” He turned back. “Please don’t cancel again. We’re only just beginning,” she said, smug.

Seijuurou suppressed a sigh and left without comment. Araki could be irritating from time to time.

Outside the building, a crisp autumn wind skated over Seijuurou's skin. He felt his irritation abate. Heading for the train station, he thought of dinner. The store was on the way home. By the time he reached the station, he decided to stop and get something for dinner. He could try his hand at a full meal, tonight. It didn't take long for him to plan a menu. Without further material to think on, his mind returned to the session’s topics.

Memories of being an Eva pilot rose, unbidden, calling up a strange kind of homesickness. It wasn’t fun by any means to be an Eva pilot, but back then... at least they had been together.

The train was almost empty; it wasn’t rush hour yet. Golden light cut through the smudged glass panes to irritate Seijuurou’s eyes. An old memory flickered to the forefront of his mind...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was up at 4 am yesterday writing this fic, and i realized we're not even 1/4 done.  
> and ive been low key panicking since then :') ha HA AHaHHA


	14. Chapter 14

_Gold paint glinted in the sunlight. Down a long corridor of sparkling skyscrapers, a massive Eva waited. Seijuurou settled into position, the heated flesh of the Eva flexing with him. An Eva that had escaped capture for months. Behind him, Seijuurou heard the low whine of Shintaro's bazooka charging._

_They had prepared for this moment. For months, they had trained to take this specific Eva down. Seijuurou's heart began to race, his mind whirling._

_"Follow the plan," he said aloud. Grunts of acknowledgement sounded from the others. They had agreed not to speak aloud beforehand, aware their enemies would be listening._

_Daiki charged from his left, moving at a blurring speed. Ryouta's Eva flexed, armor plates clicking. Atsushi planted his massive shield into the ground in front of them all. His AT field swelled, forming a transparent shield between the Gold Eva and them. It shivered in anticipation of impact, sending small rainbows across Atsushi's purple Eva._

_The world lit up in blinding yellows and whites as a shot collided with the shield. Fire spread across its clear surface. A sniper had been waiting in the wings._

_As expected._

_"Aomine," Seijuurou called, keeping his voice level. Daiki darted forward towards the Gold Eva, ever eager to fight. From his back, a second pair of arms snapped outward. Tetsuya was also ready._

_He lifted his hand in signal to Shintaro, who had located the position of the sniper. Crushing cars and concrete under his massive weight, Shintaro took a step back. An explosion shook buildings as plumes of smoke shot out from the front and back of his bazooka. Its shell rocketed through the air, buffeting the still air. In the distance, the sniper Eva moved, too late: the shell obliterated it with a shocking boom._

_Everything according to plan..._

_Ryouta had already started running forward. Leaping onto the Gold Eva's back, Ryouta gripped the head of the Eva, trying snap its neck. His armor clicked again, then shot downward, stabbing into the Gold Eva. Thick red blood gushed from its wounds._

_The Gold Eva howled._

_Seijuurou had been expecting this._

_Another Eva stepped through the smoke cast by Shintaro's bazooka. This one... it was the largest Seijuurou had ever seen. Gaining speed, it started running full-force at them like a great silver bull. Colliding with Atsushi’s shield, the two of them fought for ground for a protracted moment. Atsushi faltered back, his shield cracking. In the distance, the Gold Eva pulled a long blade on Daiki and Ryouta. Seijuurou strode toward the Silver Eva, pulling two pistols. He lifted his left arm; took a shot; lifted his right arm; took another shot. Bullets ricocheted off the Silver Eva, leaving dents leaking blood._

_Shintaro discarded the bazooka and instead picked up a powerful sniper rifle. Seijuurou crushed the urge to remind him he had limited guns and ammunition._

_In the distance, the sniper Eva howled, its right arm and half of its torso blown away by the bazooka. They’d have to watch out for that one, Seijuurou noted._

_Everything still going to plan._

_Seijuurou kept taking shots against the Silver Eva. Ignoring him, it kept pounding on Atsushi's shield. The shield cracked and shattered. Seijuurou was exposed. The fist of the Silver Eva struck his chin, snapping his head upwards. Seijuurou darted forward, avoiding Atsushi’s massive falling body._

_"Midorima, finish up with the small fry," he commanded. They needed his help._

_A scream rang out over their speakers, echoed in the open air by Ryouta's Eva. The Gold Eva had pinned him to the ground, and was tearing his plates of armor off. Gritting his teeth, Seijuurou muted Ryouta's microphone._

_Daiki and Tetsuya staggered toward the Gold Eva despite a broken leg. "Keep going," he could hear Tetsuya encourage Daiki._

_Fear struck Seijuurou like lightning. He hadn’t anticipated the Gold Eva being able to penetrate their AT Field. Gut sinking, Seijuurou registered that they were losing this fight._

_He pointed one gun at the Gold Eva and one at the Silver Eva, making head shots at the same time. It was reckless, but it had the effect of catching their attention. It gave Daiki time to reach the Gold Eva. However, it also meant Seijuurou was only half-prepared for the Silver Eva. Its fist came driving into his side, crushing his armor. Seijuurou staggerd. The Silver Eva specialized in brutal attacks, and he was feeling it as he struggled to breathe. Seijuurou swung his right gun to the Silver Eva’s head and unloaded an entire clip into its face. He managed to suck in a breath, pain paralyzing him as it spread up his side._

_Face plate shattered, the Silver Eva swayed. Atsushi had finally recovered. He leaped at the Silver Eva, all his weight behind the blow. The Silver Eva fell back, crashing into the ground. Still recovering, Seijuurou heard a pounding sound. The Gold Eva's arms worked like pistons as it pounded the ground. Eyes refocusing, Seijuurou's heart sank. Beneath the Gold Eva, Daiki's Eva lay. Its abdomen was completely caved in, its arms torn off. Seijuurou craned his neck. He couldn't tell if Daiki and Tetsuya were alive._

_Ryouta scrambled onto the Gold Eva, his jaw closing on the nape of its neck where the pilot’s entry plug hid. Sensing danger, the Gold Eva reached behind itself and started to drag Ryouta over its head with one arm._

_A boom sounded through the air, vibrating Seijuurou's skull._

_Shintaro had fired on the Gold Eva. Seijuurou waited, anxious, for the smoke to clear. Shintaro always ran the risk of hitting one of them when they were in close combat._

_Seijuurou's eyes made out the figures in the smoke._

_The Gold Eva had recovered rapidly; it struck Ryouta in the back of the head. Ryouta’s Eva slumped to the ground, eyes growing dim. Seijuurou felt sick. Three friends down._

_Things were not going to plan._

_The Silver Eva was rallying, pulling himself up, and now the Gold Eva was coming closer. Atsushi jumped on the Silver Eva, trying to crush him with his weight. The AT Field of the Silver Eva remained stable, protecting him from the worst of Atsushi’s blows. The Silver Eva managed to get back on his feet, knocking back Atsushi. Seijuurou discarded his guns; they were nearly out of ammo, and he needed to have his hands free for what was coming._

_Shintaro drew his normal rifle; he had exhausted his explosive ammo. He took shot after shot at the Gold Eva, who kept coming. Seijuurou ran at him, deciding to take him head-on. The Gold Eva picked up speed, mirroring his actions._

_"Help Atsushi," he shouted at Shintaro. His Eva shuddered with impact as the Gold Eva reached him. Pulling out hand knives, Seijuurou grappled with the Gold Eva for a short minute. He was at a strong disadvantage. The Gold Eva was larger and stronger, and had brought its long blade. Seijuurou took a cautious step back, recalculating his next move. The Eva tensed for a split second. Seijuurou read his movements, darting to the left to avoid the blade. He lost his breath for a moment as it skimmed his armor. He pushed forward, disrupting the Gold Eva's footing. Stumbling, the Gold Eva's arm came back down, the blade pushing deep into Seijuurou’s back. Agony coursed through him in a long stripe down his back, burning pain branding him. A long whine pushed through his gritted teeth and out of the Eva in the form of an inhuman scream. Seijuurou pulled back his arm, driving his fist into the head of the Gold Eva. Rearing his head back, he brought it snapping down into the face of the Gold Eva. Both of them took damage from the reckless move. He mounted the Gold Eva where it lay, stunned, on the ground._

_From a distance, a quiet snapping sound reached Seijuurou's ears. A moment later, Shintaro screamed, the sound echoing and reverberating in Seijuurou's head. The Gold Eva roared in approval, arching his back and pulling his knife to drive it into Seijuurou again. Seijuurou grabbed the knife desperately. Excruciating pain stabbed through his palm. Blood ran down his Eva’s hand in rivulets. Blood floated from his hand into the red fluid of the chamber, translucent and graceful. He grabbed the Gold Eva’s throat, squeezing with all his strength. The armor began to crumple beneath his grip; fierce satisfaction filled him._

_The Gold Eva forced the knife closer to Seijuurou using both his arms. Seijuurou's arms quaked trying to hold the knife back. He watched it come closer and closer. The knife pierced his armor inexorably. Hot tears ran from Seijuurou's eyes, dissipating into the LCL fluid. The knife shook, halfway buried in his Eva's flesh. Seijuurou started to scream in pain and frustration. He realized his Eva was howling, the sound blocking out everything else._

_Too far way, Shintaro and Atsushi answered with their own cries. The knife jerked forward, stabbing Seijuurou to the hilt. His breath left him in a whoosh; the Eva's cry cut off. As its echo faded, a high keening sound resounded from behind Seijuurou. Goosebumps raced up his spine, giving him chills and making his hair stand on end. The shrieking sound become louder and louder. It scraped Seijuurou’s nerves like the sound of tearing metal. A loud pounding came from the place where, Seijuurou noticed, Daiki and Tetsuya’s Eva had been lying. Seijuurou rolled off the Gold Eva, scrambling to get as far away as possible._

_The Eva was going Berserk._

_The keening sound swelled in volume. The Eva's caved-in abdomen ballooned outward,. The Eva was self-repairing. It rose, targeting the nearest Eva. Seijuurou retreated, leaving the Gold Eva to the Berserker. He could use this to their advantage. As the Berserker sprinted and attacked the Gold Eva, Seijuurou went to join the others._

_Seijuurou crashed into the Silver Eva, pushing him off Atsushi, who twitched on the ground. Shintaro was attempting to crawl not far away, both legs broken. The sounds of ripping flesh permeated Seijuurou's consciousness._

_The Silver Eva looked at where the Berserker was pulling the Gold Eva apart. It ripped into the Gold Eva, pulling out its intestines with its teeth. Seijuurou felt queasy. He tried not to think of Tetsuya and Daiki trapped inside._

_The Silver Eva turned and started to run away. Seijuurou sprinted after him. He tackled him into a building which groaned and fell under their combined weight. He hoped no one was inside. The Berserker cocked its head up at the noise. Seijuurou struggled with the Silver Eva, trying to get him to stay long enough for the Berserker to catch up. He heard its crashing steps as it advanced on them, the buildings trembling with the force of its steps. A hand appeared before Seijuurou, drenched in blood. Belatedly, Seijuurou registered that it had come through his abdomen. Sinking to his knees, Seijuurou coughed, spraying blood onto the Silver Eva. As he collapsed to the ground, he heard the muffled sounds of the Berserker roaring. There was a strange ringing in his ears as his vision faded to black…_

That was his last clear memory. For months, he swam in a murky nightmare before waking up in a hospital, bright lights whiting out his vision. He had been in a coma for months, he was told.

 

An elbow jabbed into Seijuurou, breaking his focus. He was at the train station. He shouldn’t be here – he meant to go to the store. Pushing his way through the rush hour crowd, Seijuurou started to make his way towards the exit. He didn't want to get caught up in his thoughts again.

“Akashi!” Turning around, Seijuurou caught sight of Tetsuya. He weaved fluidly through the crowd towards Seijuurou.

“You decided to meet me at the station?” he asked.

Seijuurou nodded, still feeling muddled.

_He caught sight of Tetsuya’s tearful face made pallid in the harsh light. Behind him, a tall boy with dark red hair crossed his arms, insecure._

"I thought..." he stopped. Now wasn't the time. "I thought we could go to the store together."

"Sure," Tetsuya pinched his sleeve between two fingers, starting to lead him out of the station.

“It’s good to see you,” Seijuurou said, a bit too quiet. Tetsuya smiled.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> concept art for the mecha suits in this KnB/NGE crossover:  
>   
> 


	15. Chapter 15

Tetsuya placed his grocery bag on the table and peered inside. “It’s nice to have a traditional meal,” Tetsuya murmured. They were making _shabu shabu_ that night.

Seijuurou cocked his head. “You don’t usually?” he asked.

Tetsuya looked up, startled. “No. Usually by this time Kagami would be making hamburgers,” he explained.

Seijuurou brought the ingredients to the countertop, where he started sorting them. “He lived in America for a while, didn’t he?”

“Yes,” Tetsuya answered. “I suppose it rubbed off on him.” A silent moment fell between them as they sliced the vegetables. Their blades tapped the cutting boards in disjointed rhythms.

The sun hung low in the sky. Its rays were visible in the dust of the air, giving the illusion of clear glass shards suspended in air. Seijuurou blinked; the steel of the knife was cold in his hand. Tetsuya was speaking.

“…don’t know what my parents would like,” he murmured. “Probably not what I actually ate, which was mostly take out.” His head tilted towards Seijuurou in wait of an answer.

Seijuurou thought for a moment, finger tracing the sharp steel in his hand. “My father likes western culture. Western houses, clothes, food...” Seijuurou gripped the knife and chopped, the sharp noise startling Tetsuya. “I was never very fond of it.”

“So this is new for you too,” Tetsuya pushed his blade through the last bit of mushroom, careful not to slice his hand.

“Here, you cut the tofu while I take out the meat,” Seijuurou instructed. He also pulled out a pot, turning the stove on and pouring miso broth into it.

As Seijuurou added tofu and green onions to the soup, Tetsuya leaned his hip on the counter. “So, how did your appointment go?”

“It went well.” Seijuurou kept his eyes on the food, watching Tetsuya out the corner of his eye.

“Oh?” Tetsuya smiled, seeming relieved. “That’s good.” He turned back to the vegetables, covering them with plastic and placing them in the fridge. “I’ll start the rice.”

Seijuurou didn’t reply, stirring the soup as he waited.

Tetsuya added the rice and water, starting the machine. “Anything else?”

“No,” Seijuurou murmured, covering the soup. “Now we wait.”

“Want to watch television?” Without waiting for an answer, Tetsuya walked towards the couch, taking the remote in hand.

Seijuurou stared at him where he settled on the couch. “You’re not going to ask about what we talked about?” Tetsuya glanced at him before poking at the remote.

“If you wanted to talk about it, you’d say something. Wouldn’t you?”

Seijuurou didn’t reply.

Memories of that evening crept back into his mind. He looked at Tetsuya, colors playing across his face from the television screen. The light of the room was dimming as the sun set. Tetsuya’s seemed remote; alien in the strange light. Seijuurou blinked, and went to turn on another lamp. Tetsuya continued to watch the television, though he had to be aware of Seijuurou’s eyes on him.

Seijuurou opened his mouth, drawing in a breath - Tetsuya’s eyes flicked to him. Seijuurou wasn’t sure how to express his thoughts, and for a split second he sat there, caught on what to say.

“What...” he started. Tetsuya turned to him, muting the television. “What do you remember?”

“What do you mean?”

“When I was in the hospital. And before.” A strange expression crossed Tetsuya’s face, passing before Seijuurou could decipher it.

Tetsuya shifted, eyes searching the room for something unknown. “What... exactly are you interested in knowing?”

Seijuurou thought of an arm reaching through his chest. That wasn’t his chest; it was the Eva’s. Still, the ghost of a tearing sensation lingered. If Seijuurou felt stabbed, did Tetsuya feel like the stabber?

Months had passed. Months that Seijuurou had heard whispered about, but never wanted to know of. Now, looking at Tetsuya’s blank expression, he wanted to know. He wanted to know why Tetsuya had kept his face from moving at all in this conversation.

“What happened after that battle?” Seijuurou whispered.

Tetsuya swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “You were taken to the hospital. Everyone was,” he corrected himself. “We were all in rehabilitation for a long while.”

“The mission?” Seijuurou pressed.

“The main Jabberwocky escaped. They made a task force to finish the job," he intoned. Tetsuya turned back to face the television. “Not quite a job for the Generation of Miracles, when there’s only one left. When I recovered, I was assigned to clean up the last bits of Jabberwocky.”

“Is that when you were assigned to Kagami?”

Tetsuya’s brow furrowed. “You haven’t talked about this with Midorima?”

“No.”

“I decided to work with Kagami. I wasn’t assigned.”

“Why?” Seijuurou thought of the distance between the Generation of Miracles now.

“I had to take on an assignment, and it was a big one.” Tetsuya hesitated. “Aomine... decided he didn’t want to do it. I ended up working with Kagami ever since.”

“Is that why you two are not on good terms anymore?” Seijuurou asked bluntly.

Tetsuya rubbed the back of his neck, uncomfortable. “I suppose that it’s part of it.”

“What was the assignment?” Tetsuya became rigid again, his face blank.

“It was… the cleanup mission,” he said, turning back towards the television. Seijuurou watched his face, as the corner of his lips tilted downward in discomfort.

“You just came back from that mission, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” he said, eyes on the screen. Seijuurout felt a tangle of disappointment and relief. He didn’t know why he had dreaded talking about this for so long. The sound of beeping from the rice cooker caught his attention. He went to prepare the food.

He thought about Tetsuya’s uncomfortable demeanor; the blank expression that unnerved Seijuurou. He couldn’t read what Tetsuya was thinking. Shattering his thoughts, a touch brushed the small of his back. Seijuurou froze, battling a sickening wash of déjà vu. He struggled to remember the moment that floated under the surface of his mind.

“Akashi?” Seijuurou shook his head. He turned, catching sight of Tetsuya. Horrible guilt etched itself into the lines of his face. Seijuurou blinked, and Tetsuya looked normal. “Are you okay?”

Seijuurou cleared his throat, his heart beating in his chest. “I’m fine,” he said aloud. He turned back to the dinner, trying to remember what he was doing. “The broth is about hot enough. We can add the vegetables.”

Tetsuya pulled out the vegetable platter from the fridge, eager to help. They put the vegetables into the heated broth.

“It’s a shame we can’t eat at the table,” Tetsuya said, trying to change the strange atmosphere.

“I should get an extension cord.”

“You don’t have to,” Tetsuya said politely.

“No, but I will,” Seijuurou said shortly. His stirring devolved more into a violent hashing of the vegetables.

Seijuurou tapped his chopsticks against the rim of the hot pot. The water was beginning to bubble, just below boiling. “We can eat now,” he informed Tetsuya, who watched him.

Tetsuya pulled out small dishes for both of them. The two of them filled their dishes.

Seijuurou took a spoonful of miso. He sipped it, judging its taste. Beside him, Tetsuya dipped a thin slice of meat into the hot broth. He stirred it until it turned a light pink and then blew on it before eating it.

“How is it?” Seijuurou watched Tetsuya's expression, waiting for a reaction.

Tetsuya hummed, swallowing. “It’s good,” he said, already picking up another piece. “This meat must have been expensive,” he noted.

Seijuurou didn’t bother to reply to that. If Tetsuya wanted to be cheap, he should have beat Seijuurou to buying the meat. Tetsuya continued, “It’s nice. Thank you,” and looked up into Seijuurou’s gaze. Staring into Tetsuya’s blue eyes, Seijuurou felt himself softening.

“Of course,” he said gently. Curiosity piqued, Seijuurou asked, “How would you make it cheap?”

“I once saw Kagami get a big block of cheap beef and cut it while it was frozen." Tetsuya pulled vegetables from the _shabu shabu_ broth and loaded them into one of his dishes. “I wouldn’t try it, myself. I’d probably cut my own hand off in the attempt.”

“Yes, let’s not do that." Seijuurou reminded himself to keep a closer eye on Tetsuya when he was handling sharp knives.

Tetsuya smiled wrily, leaning across Seijuurou to reach the hot pot. Seijuurou startled a bit as their shoulders brushed. He ignored Tetsuya's curious look, sparks of energy lingering where they had touched.

The rest of the meal passed peacefully as they murmured over their meal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if ur wondering why this chap is going up later than usual, its bc i slept late and then realized it needed extensive rewriting. :| im still not happy with it but that's life.  
> if you don't know what shabu shabu is: [shabu shabu recipe](http://www.justonecookbook.com/shabu-shabu/)


	16. Chapter 16

Kuroko picked at his bento. Guilt seeped from his heart, burning a hole in his chest. You weren’t supposed to take your cafeteria lunch outside, but he needed some fresh air.

It wasn’t long before Kagami found him, footsteps crunching on gravel.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked, brow furrowed against the light of the sun.

“It’s nice weather,” Kuroko said to the air in front of him. It was: the weather had cooled, and trees rustled in the occasional breeze. It was beautiful, mild.

Kuroko hated it. He was in a mood to hate something, and he had grown tired of hating himself.

He picked at his bento some more. Kagami huffed, settling on the bench next to him. The courtyard at TEKO was usually fairly empty at lunchtime, but the weather had drawn people out. Light chatter drifted on the air.

“What is it now?” Kagami demanded. Kuroko poked at his bento some more, crushing irritation. It could be worse, he reminded himself. It could be Aomine who was roughly poking at his emotions. His mood darkened further as he thought of their strained relationship.

Kagami seemed content to let the question hang in the air, leaning back against the bench. Kuroko supposed he expected an answer. He might as well; there was no one else to talk to.

“I don’t think they told Akashi much.” He tried to keep it vague, aware they were on TEKO grounds.

Kagami stiffened next to him, and then sighed.

“I knew this was a bad idea,” he muttered.

Kuroko ducked his head to hide the tears burning in his eyes. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” he whispered.

“Nothing,” Kagami said bluntly.

Kuroko shook his head. “You don’t understand,” he murmured.

“No, _you_ don’t understand.” Kagami turned to him, hitching his arm up on the back of the bench. “What was the purpose of this, anyways? Just to let him guilt trip you into giving yourself up?”

“He’s not-”

“Right,” Kagami snorted. “Listen, if you wanna put yourself in danger, fine. But not me,” he leaned closer, “and not Tatsuya.”

“He deserves to know.” Kuroko’s voice swelled in volume. Kagami twitched, uncomfortable. He was paranoid, too. Lowering his voice, Kuroko continued: “What if I tell him. He wouldn’t say anything.” Kagami pursed his lips. “You trust him?”

"Akashi is smart. He'll figure it out on his own."

“All the more reason to lie. There’s a reason we keep these things secret,” Kagami whispered urgently. “Let him flounder. It’s what he gets for all the trouble he put me through.”

Kuroko raised his eyebrows. “Yes,” he said drily. “Poor you.”

∞

When Tetsuya walked in the door that night, Seijuurou was already preparing dinner.

“I’m home,” Tetsuya called.

“Welcome home.” A warmth settled into the atmosphere. Seijuurou had never had someone to call out to him every night before.

“What’s this?” Tetsuya asked, approaching.

“Yakisoba,” Seijuurou stirred the dish. It was almost done. “Are you ready to eat?” “Sure,” Tetsuya walked into his room to put his work bag away. Coming back, he rummaged through the cupboards for dishes. As he set the table, Seijuurou turned the heat off. Everything was ready.

They filled their dishes. Only the clinking of chopsticks against their dishes broke the silence of the room.

Seijuurou’s mind tracked back to their conversation earlier. Tetsuya’s eyes were pinned to his plate, where he picked up some noodles and stared at them. He seemed lost in thought.

“Is everything alright?”

Tetsuya’s eyes snapped up. He drew in a breath, eyebrows raising in faux surprise. “I was wondering when you’re expected back at work.

“Oh.” Seijuurou never had told him, after all. “I’ll be returning at the start of next week.”

“Did you make your decision about what position to take?”

“Yes,” Seijuurou looked out the window. It was still early enough for peach light to tinge the sky. “I’m going to be a ground operator.” He turned back to Tetsuya, who smiled - but it didn’t reach his eyes. It occurred to Seijuurou that Tetsuya might have hoped he would return to piloting with him.

“That’s good,” he said. “You should enjoy bossing around Eva pilots.”

Seijuurou leaned back, offended. “What” he said sharply.

Tetsuya laughed softly. “That took a moment,” he teased.

A grudging smile fought its way onto Seijuurou’s face. His heart felt light.

∞

_The sky blended from peach to a light purple, white streaks of clouds stretching across it like scars._

_Seijuurou was in an Eva. There was no mistaking the heated viscosity of the fluid he floated in. He wondered if the sky could truly be purple, if he was viewing it through red fluid._

_He hit the release switch, ejecting the plug from the Eva. The liquid steamed as it poured from the plug, fresh air coming in to fill the capsule. Seijuurou pushed the fluid from his lungs. It felt like vomiting. He inhaled, the air chilling his skin and lungs._

_Seijuurou climbed out of the capsule, staggering onto the field. He felt weak. Outside the Eva, he caught sight of the ground. The torn corpses of Evas lay around, white bone and red blood staining the earth. Their armor glittered, the characteristic colors of the Generation of Miracles._

_Seijuurou shook his head, uncomprehending. He tripped, falling to his knees. His eyes burned, vision blurring. Warm liquid flowed down his abdomen. Looking downward, Seijuurou noticed blood seeping out of a gaping wound in his chest. He swayed, landing hard on his side. His blood mixed with that of the Evas. He clutched at his wound, eyes rolling upward in silent agony. The sky that had lured him out of the safety of the Eva’s womb was a violent blue._

Seijuurou woke, shuddering. He had fallen asleep without his covers on. He curled into a ball on his side, wrapping his arms around himself. Broken sobs wrenched themselves out from deep within his chest. For a small eternity, he hugged himself and cried in the dead of night. He wasn’t sure why. He only knew the pain in his chest, mirroring the wound in his dreams.

That morning, Seijuurou’s eyes were swollen and raw. His body felt like lead. When Tetsuya knocked on his door, Seijuurou stayed in bed. He didn’t move all day, even when it was lunchtime and his phone rang. Even when Tetsuya came home, calling out, Seijuurou remained silent. Even when Tetsuya stood outside his door, sighing, Seijuurou lay in bed.

In this way, the weekend began.

Seijuurou woke on Saturday to see his door open. Sitting up quickly, he noticed Tetsuya sitting by the open doorway. Just on the other side of the threshold, he was reading a book.

“What are you doing?” Seijuurou’s voice came out sharp.

“Reading.” Tetsuya turned a page in his book.

“Why there?” Seijuurou threw his covers off, striding towards where Tetsuya was sitting. His head spun with the sudden movement, the lack of food catching up with him.

“I’m not allowed to come into your room,” Tetsuya tilted his head up to meet his eyes. Irritation stiffened his features, though he forced a smile. “You disappear for such long periods I was beginning to wonder if you had a secret exit hidden in here.”

Seijuurou bristled. “The door is part of the room, and as such is also off-limits.” He made to close it, but Tetsuya stuck his arm through.

“Why? To keep me from seeing all this?” Tetsuya gestured to the mess inside Seijuurou’s room. “Too late.”

Fury coursed through Seijuurou. “I could break your arm right now,” he gritted out, hand squeezing the door.

“Then do it.” Tetsuya held eye contact, arm still stuck in the doorway. A tense moment passed as they stared each other down. Seijuurou released a gusty sigh, turning to walk away.

“I’m sorry.” Seijuurou turned back to Tetsuya, who looked remorseful.

“What do you want?” Seijuurou muttered.

“Won’t you let me in? I can help with all this.” Tetsuya stared into his eyes. Seijuurou could feel humiliation crawling up his back. He didn’t need any help to clean his room.

Switching tactics, Tetsuya gestured behind him. “Come out and have a cup of coffee.” Seijuurou stood still, wavering. “I won’t come in if you don’t want me to,” Tetsuya murmured, tone lowering with sadness.

“Alright.” Seijuurou stepped out of his room, shutting the door behind them. Tetsuya stood up, taking his book with him. “What are you reading?” Seijuurou tried to change the subject.

“Another mystery novel,” Tetsuya flipped the book to show him its cover. “I know you don’t like them.”

“None of those authors are intelligent enough to set up a convincing twist." Seijuurou started to make his coffee, pouring coffee beans into the top of the machine.

“There must be a novel out there that could fool even you.”

Seijuurou eyed him sideways. “I’d be very impressed if any book managed to surprise me.”

“I should have become an author like I was thinking about doing, so I could write your perfect novel.” A playful smile tugged at the corners of Tetsuya’s lips.

“I highly doubt you’d be able to do that.” Seijuurou took a sip of his coffee, still facing away from Tetsuya.

"Probably not," Tetsuya conceded. "It took me the whole day to figure out that thing." He pointed at the coffee machine.

"This?" Seijuurou looked at it, perplexed. It seemed straight forward to him.

"It didn't help that I'd never seen a coffee machine that took whole beans before. I still don't know what that is," Tetsuya pointed to one part of the machine.

"It's a milk frother." Seijuurou stared at Tetsuya. He somehow managed to surprise Seijuurou in the most unexpected of ways.

“You’ll have to teach me how to use it sometime.” Seeing his anger was gone, Tetsuya touched his elbow.

“It’s fine, you know,” Tetsuya leaned in closer. “Everyone's room gets a little messy from time to time. It’s not a big deal.” Seijuurou stared at his coffee. After a brief pause, Tetsuya continued. “I know you can do it on your own. It’s just that it’s nice to have company.”

The dark brown coffee rippled as Seijuurou adjusted his grip. “Okay.”

Tetsuya wouldn’t give it up until he got what he wanted, anyways. They spent the majority of the day sorting through the mess in Seijuurou’s room. At one point, Tetsuya leaned up against the glass of the window, looking down at the tiny people below.

“What a strange life you’ve led,” he commented.

“You’re smudging the glass,” Seijuurou pointed out.

“Ah!” Tetsuya leaned back. “Do we have glass cleaner?”

Seijuurou didn’t know.

After a while searching for the cleaner, they settled on wiping the window with a damp towel. Tetsuya fussed over it while Seijuurou continued to sort his laundry. When he got one load ready, he deposited in in the washing machine and started the cycle.

Reentering his room, he saw Tetsuya hold up one of his shirts. “You wear the same size shirt as me,” Tetsuya said, surprised.

“Really?” Seijuurou stared at Tetsuya, judging his size. They were close, he realized.

“Yes.” Tetsuya held up the shirt, lips curling with satisfaction.

“I suppose you’re just one of those people who look small,” Seijuurou noted, bursting his bubble.

Tetsuya’s expression soured. “Yes, well I don’t see why you need so many clothes.” He threw the shirt into the whites pile.

“I’m very rich,” Seijuurou stated.

“Very vain, more like,” Tetsuya said under his breath.

Seijuurou cocked his head. Freezing, Tetsuya seemed to realize he’d been heard.

“Did I mention you look very good today?” Tetsuya faked innocence. “Rumpled T-shirts suit you.”

Seijuurou threw a rumpled T-shirt at his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tired as hell. i cant remember what happens in this chapter, even tho i edited it earlier today, so uh. good times, guys. eat your veggies.


	17. Chapter 17

“Are you still up?” Seijuurou looked up at the question. Tetsuya was standing in the hallway, hair at odd angles. He must have woken up to go to the bathroom and noticed Seijuurou’s light on.

“First day of work tomorrow,” Seijuurou explained, resisting the urge to rub his bleary eyes.

Tetsuya’s brow furrowed slightly. “Are you worried about it?” he asked.

“No,” Seijuurou replied shortly. Seijuurou couldn’t hear it, but he saw Tetsuya’s shoulders rise and fall as he sighed quietly.

“Can’t sleep?” Tetsuya asked, trying for conversational as he stepped into the room. Seijuurou grimaced.

“I can function on little sleep,” he defended. Tetsuya smiled tiredly, stepped forward, and turned off the lamp. In the sudden darkness, he felt much closer.

“Come on,” Tetsuya prodded. “Let’s go to sleep.”

"Very well," Seijuurou sighed. He stood up, joints stiff from sitting still for hours. He felt like a child being put to bed as he followed Tetsuya to his room.

Sliding into bed, Seijuurou blinked with exhaustion as Tetsuya’s shadowy figure lingered. “You seem worried,” Seijuurou noted.

This time Seijuurou heard it when Tetsuya drew in a breath, resigned. “Not really,” he deflected.

Seijuurou rested his head comfortably on his folded arm, settling in. “Tell me about it,” he said. To his surprise, Tetsuya sank onto the bed, seeming to sag a bit as his posture drooped. Framed as he was, he made a stark black silhouette against the night scene of Seijuurou’s massive windows. Sickly colored city lights winked in and out behind him. He twisted his fingers together.

“I can’t help but think of Kise,” Tetsuya said. Seijuurou’s eyebrow quirked with tired curiosity. Now that he was lying in bed in the dark, the softness of the pillow underneath him lulled him into sleepiness. “He doesn’t talk to anyone about Kasamatsu. It has to hurt,” he whispered, head tilted down to look at his hands.

“He doesn’t talk to you about it?” Seijuurou inquired. That was strange; Ryouta and Tetsuya were usually on good terms, weren’t they?

“No,” Tetsuya said quietly. Seijuurou stared at his silhouette, wishing he could try to read his expression. Perhaps Tetsuya had also been struggling to sleep, lying awake with his thoughts.

“Is this what's keeping you awake?” Seijuurou asked.

Tetsuya seemed to catch himself. "I'm sorry, I'm bothering you so late."

“No,” Seijuurou replied quickly. But Tetsuya seemed somewhat self-conscious now, shifting his weight a bit.

“We should both go to bed,” he said, pausing before continuing: “Good night.”

“Good night,” he replied quietly. Feeling regret for his lack of tact, Seijuurou felt the bed lift as Tetsuya stood up. It was the first time Tetsuya had come to him about one of his own problems. Long after the door had clicked shut, Seijuurou stared up at the ceiling, dyed by purplish light.

His sleepiness left him as nausea slowly crept up his throat. The coverlet had become sweltering. He thought of the shadowy dreams that awaited him, with their vivid horror and sorrow.

He didn't sleep well.

∞

The crowd swayed as the train bent around a corner. Tetsuya fell against him, flushing. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Hold onto me,” Seijuurou advised, arm attached to a metal bar at the top. Embarrassed, Tetsuya stood stiffly, trying to resist the natural sway of the crowd. Seijuurou suppressed a smile. He wondered if Tetsuya always stood like this on the train, or if he felt self-conscious because of Seijuurou. He would find out, in the days to come. Seijuurou was finally returning to work.

The train slowed, reaching their stop. Seijuurou pushed through the crowd, Tetsuya following closely behind him. They strode through the train station, cutting through the morning rush to get to their exit. Once they were out in the fresh air, they slowed. Tetsuya pulled his collar close around himself as a cool breeze brushed against them. Seijuurou breathed it in. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed going to work. His chest felt lighter than it had in weeks.

“Refreshing weather, isn’t it?” Seijuurou turned to Tetsuya, who had been watching him.

“Yes, it is,” he agreed.

Tetsuya’s lips quirked upwards. “Eager to get back to work?”

Seijuurou slowed, becoming aware he had been going rather fast. “I suppose,” he said noncommittally.

“I always knew you were a workaholic,” Tetsuya said wisely.

Seijuurou gave him a look out the corner of his eye.

“You’re one to talk,” he said. He looked at the trees along the road, whose leaves had yellowed. The TEKO compound loomed in the distance, but for now they had a moment to themselves. Seijuurou looked to his side, where Tetsuya kept pace. His eyes fixed ahead of him, his expression blank. Seijuurou wished he could read him as easily as Tetsuya seemed to understand him. Tetsuya turned, eyebrow raising. Seijuurou just looked at him silently until he looked away again. It was small moments like these that felt off. Every once in a while, Tetsuya’s reaction was just a bit off, but Seijuurou never knew why. They reached the TEKO compound without saying a single thing.

Stepping into the building, Seijuurou felt his chest tighten with anxiety. The last time he had returned to active duty, whispers had dogged his steps throughout the compound. Summoning his will, Seijuurou pushed forward.

“I’ll see you later, then.” Tetsuya lifted a hand in farewell. Seijuurou nodded, throat dry.

He headed towards Sanada’s office, where the man waited.

“Akashi! It’s good to see that you finally made your decision,” Sanada stood upon seeing him. Seijuurou bowed briefly. Sanada was spineless. He feared his superiors and he couldn't command his subordinates.

“It’s my pleasure to be back,” Seijuurou kept his spine straight, trying to inject a higher level of formality into the proceedings.

“Yes, well,” Sanada walked around his desk, his hand coming to rest on his office phone. “I suppose you’re ready to be shown where you’ll be working.” He pressed a button on the phone, “If you could come in please.”

Momoi walked in through the door, file in hand.

“Welcome back, Akashi,” she waved towards the door. “You’ll be in my department from now on.”

She strode down the corridor, heels clicking as Seijuurou kept pace.

“It’s been a while since you were in active duty, so we’re starting you off in simulations.” Seijuurou tried not to cringe at the thought of working with young, untested pilots. Momoi caught his look, smiling briefly before suppressing her reaction. “I don’t foresee any issues. I’m sure you’ll be back in action in a few weeks.”

Seijuurou didn’t reply; it was obvious he was overqualified for simulation testing. Momoi led him through TEKO compound until they reached the simulations branch. Momoi was in charge of testing new prototypes and pilots, spares in case of emergency. It was possible the spare that replaced him had come from this department.

They stepped into the main chamber. Simulation heads twitched and strained, pilots within fighting imaginary enemies. Foot traffic slowed as they stepped into the room. Heads turned to stare. Feeling the weight of their gaze, Seijuurou turned to Momoi. She drew her lips into a straight line, staring down the pilots.

“Everyone!” she shouted. Any pretense of busywork was dropped at the ringing sound of her voice. “Akashi Seijuurou will be joining us in training from now on.” Seijuurou held his head high, perfectly still. “Resume your business.”

Seijuurou released a breath as eyes turned away. It was a good way to dispel the whispering curiosity, if only for a short while. Momoi turned to him, gesturing towards the nearest simulator. “I’m sure you know what to do.” She lingered, brushing a hand lightly over his upper arm. “It’s nice to see you back at TEKO,” she said, her tone warming.

“Thank you,” Seijuurou intoned. He and Momoi had never interacted outside of work, though he understood that she was close to Tetsuya.

“You look good, if a bit scruffy,” she said, nose crinkling teasingly.

“Scruffy,” Seijuurou echoed.

“It’s been a while since you had your hair cut, right? It suits you to have it like this,” Momoi commented, eyes tracing his head.

Seijuurou’s stomach clenched; he had forgotten entirely about his hair. He’d have to cut it off, later.

“Ah.” He wasn’t sure why she was still talking to him.

“How is Tetsu doing? I heard he moved in with you?” She tilted her head, eyes slightly too wide for innocence.

‘Yes… I’m sure he’s around the compound somewhere,” Seijuurou hinted, starting to turn away.

“So you two are not--?” Momoi looked at him expectantly. Seijuurou stared at her, waiting for the rest of the question. After a moment, Momoi wilted, saying “Never mind” and walking away.

Seijuurou looked at where she had left. Had she just…? A tapping on his shoulder broke his train of thought. He turned, where a testing pilot waited, trying to project a bold demeanor despite the nervous way he shifted his weight.

“Yes?” Seijuurou raised his eyebrows, affecting politeness. It seemed to intimidate the pilot, who flinched. Rallying quickly, he said in a quavering tone, “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to train with you, sir.”

Seijuurou suppressed a look of distaste – unsuccessfully, he suspected, as the pilot flinched again. “Very well,” he said, plodding to the nearest simulator. This would become very tiresome very quickly.

∞

By the time it was lunch, Seijuurou was ready to crawl out of his skull with boredom. He legged it to the cafeteria, where Tetsuya was already settling down with his lunch. After retrieving his meal, Seijuurou settled down across from him. Tetsuya’s eyebrows rose before settling back down. Seijuurou had never been in the habit of eating with the others. He had always been busy.

“How is your first day back going?” Tetsuya asked, lifting a bite of curry to his mouth.

“I’ve been placed on simulation testing for now,” Seijuurou said, displeased.

“That’s too bad,” Tetsuya took another stab at his meal. “Do you know who you’ll be working with in the future? Kise would probably be glad to have you replace Kasamatsu.”

Seijuurou frowned. “Shouldn’t they have replaced him by now?”

“They did. With Haizaki,” Tetsuya sent him a meaningful look. Ryouta would not like that.

“Maybe I’ll request him,” Seijuurou thought aloud. “What mission is he on right now?”

“Cleanup in the southwest sector.” Tetsuya smiled at Seijuurou’s grimace. “Well, who knows? He might be given something better by the time you’re back on duty.”

From the corner of his eye, Seijuurou spotted Shintaro heading their way. His tray clattered against the table as he put it down with a bit too much violence next to Seijuurou. Seijuurou looked up at him, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Good morning,” Shintaro sniffed. “Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all,” Seijuurou replied. Shintaro settled into his seat, eyes darting between Seijuurou and Tetsuya. Seijuurou recalled their previous conversation where Shintaro had voiced doubts about Tetsuya. His stomach sank. Shintaro was probably still holding onto those suspicions.

“How has your cohabitation been going? No problems, I hope?” Shintaro affected indifference as he said it, but his eyes never left Tetsuya.

Tetsuya stared back, unmoving.

Seijuurou cleared his throat. “No problems,” he interjected.

Shintaro continued to stare down Tetsuya, who turned to Seijuurou with a plastic smile. “I think I’m just about full,” he put his spoon down. His food was barely touched.

“I think I’ll be going now.”

Seijuurou heaved a silent sigh as he watched him go. Before he could confront Shintaro, though, he was preempted with a low, urgent question.

“Why haven’t you been answering my calls?”

Dimly, Seijuurou recalled his phone ringing last Friday. He hadn’t checked it since. He swallowed his guilt.

“I’m not attached to my phone,” he said condescendingly. “I don’t live for your calls.”

Shintaro stared at him in silent disbelief. Seijuurou met his gaze; he could pull this off. Turning away with a huff, Shintaro muttered, “Of course not.” Instead of the relief he expected, Seijuurou felt disappointed. He had given up so easily.

“What about Tetsuya?” Shintaro asked, more subdued. “How has he been acting?” Seijuurou pursed his lips. Here it came.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Shintaro eyed him sideways. He looked forward and took a bit from his lunch, chewing. Seijuurou turned back to his own lunch, irritated at being made to wait for an answer.

“You returned to work quickly after he moved in,” Shintaro remarked.

“I always had a time limit from TEKO,” Seijuurou countered.

“You’ve hardly been in touch.”

“That happened before Kuroko moved in.”

“Remind me again, how was it convenient for either of you when he moved in?” Shintaro turned to him, voice straining with irritation.

“What are you trying to insinuate?” Seijuurou held eye contact. Shintaro hesitated, shifted closer.

“Has it never occurred to you that he was told to move in with you?” Shintaro muttered. Seijuurou stared at him.

“What are you talking about?” Seijuurou was amazed at the ingenuity of this theory.

“It would make sense,” Shintaro defended. Seijuurou was already shaking his head.

“You may have your differences with Tetsuya,” he said, caught between amusement and disappointment, “but I expected a higher level of maturity from you.”

Shintaro reared back, affronted.

“Enough of this,” Seijuurou said sharply. “Concocting childish rumors and snubbing a friend is no way to act.” He stood up, taking his tray. “I expect better in the future.”

As he walked away, though, his gait faltered. Shintaro wouldn't be asking questions if Seijuurou had been honest with Shintaro. His own pride had caused this. As he returned his tray and headed back to work, guilt tracing his steps like a ghost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mood: all heavy metal songs in existence being played at the same time


	18. Chapter 18

Seijuurou stepped out of the shower. This time, he wiped the foggy mirror, staring at his reflection. His hair hung, wet, almost touching his shoulders in places. He walked out into the kitchen, trailing moisture as he dug through one of the kitchen drawers.

“What are you doing?” Seijuurou turned. Tetsuya was sitting on the couch, and had turned around to stare, eyebrows lifted. Seijuurou became aware that he was still in just a towel, and fought the urge to cover up somehow.

“Cutting my hair.” Tetsuya’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“What- is that a scissors in your hand?” Seijuurou gripped the scissors, moving it slightly behind him.

“Yes,” he replied, and made as if to leave.

“Wait a moment.” Seijuurou’s eyes narrowed in displeasure. “You mean you’re going to cut your own hair with a pair of kitchen scissors?”

Seijuurou remained silent. That much was obvious.

“How do you get the hair in the back?” Seijuurou turned to leave again. Kuroko sat up, leaning over the back of the couch. “No, really. Is this why your hair always looks so weird?”

“What are you talking about?” Seijuurou glared.

“Well, it’s just that you always have that sort of weird haircut. Why don’t you go to a barber or something?”

“My own work will suffice,” Seijuurou asserted. He started walking away. Tetsuya followed.

“Are you sure that’s alright? How would you even know if it was uneven?”

Seijuurou heaved a sigh. “Why are you following me?”

Tetsuya tilted his head. “A haircut lasts a long time. Are you sure you want to do this?”

Seijuurou fixed a suspicious look on him. Tetsuya’s eyes widened innocently. “You just don’t want me to cut my hair.”

"Well, you have to admit, if it looks better when you just grow it out..." Tetsuya trailed off at Seijuurou's look. "It wouldn't hurt to go to the barber."

Seijuurou thought of the haircutter’s with aversion. He didn’t enjoy being made to sit and endure a stranger’s fumbling attempts at conversation.

“At least let me help with the back,” Tetsuya suggested. “You can’t even see back there.”

Seijuurou considered Tetsuya for a moment before holding out the scissors. Tetsuya regarded them with trepidation; his mind had already caught on.

“Wait a minute,” Tetsuya held his hands up, taking a step back. “This is too much. I don’t know how to cut hair. _You_ don’t know how to cut hair. Let’s just go to the barber’s and be done with it, okay?”

“No,” Seijuurou said with some pleasure. He’d allowed Tetsuya to win a few too many arguments, lately. “I’m going to do this the way I want to. You can make yourself useful or leave.”

Tetsuya wavered, eyes glued to the scissors. Gingerly he took the scissors, holding it as if it were a weapon. He tested its point with his finger. “Where did you get these/” he asked.

“I didn’t personally buy any of the furniture. Those are meat scissors,” he pointed out. He stepped into his bathroom, where the floor was a hard tile instead of the carpet. It would be easy to clean up afterwards.

“Meat scissors...” he heard Tetsuya mutter behind him.

Seijuurou sat on the cold tiles, beckoning to Tetsuya. He heard the rustling of clothes as Tetsuya knelt behind him, and wished he had a mirror in front of him so he could watch what Tetsuya was doing.

“You don’t really care what it looks like, huh,”

Seijuurou turned his head. “Cut it even,” he demanded.

“Hold _still_ ,” Tetsuya admonished him. Seijuurou turned back around, disgruntled. Behind him, Tetsuya softly lifted his hair. The quiet snipping of the scissors filled the quiet room. Seijuurou felt his nerves start to build. The water quickly evaporated from his chest, leaving him chilled and exposed. Tetsuya’s touch tingled in ways that made Seijuurou feel on edge.

Something cold touched the side of Seijuurou’s neck, making him jump. A sharp sensation pulled at his cheek. Touching his cheek, Seijuurou saw red blood smeared across his fingertips.

“Oh no,” Tetsuya cried. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Seijuurou said tiredly.

“Let me see,” Tetsuya said, craning around to look at him. He reached out to touch Seijuurou’s chin, but stopped when Seijuurou leaned away. “Let me get a bandage.”

“Just leave it,” Seijuurou insisted. Tetsuya ignored him, standing up and digging through his bathroom cabinet. He pulled out the first aid kit, taking out a bandage and ointment. He wet a bit of toilet paper, holding it up to Seijuurou’s face. Seijuurou resisted the urge to pull away again, letting Tetsuya gently clean the scratch.

“I hope it doesn’t scar,” Tetsuya fretted.

Seijuurou remained silent. He didn’t see why a tiny scar would matter. Tetsuya carefully applied ointment. His forefinger smoothed a bandage out across Seijuurou’s cheek. Seijuurou watched his face, noticing the way light reflected off the shades of blue in his eyes.

“There,” Tetsuya said, satisfied. “You know, this wouldn’t have happened-” Seijuurou blew out a gusty sigh. “-if we had just gone to the barber’s,” he persisted.

“It’s just a scratch,” Seijuurou reminded him. “Are you finished yet?”

“No,” Tetsuya sighed. “Are you sure you don’t want to go to the barber’s?”

“I’m sure,” Seijuurou asserted.

Tetsuya resumed his careful snipping. After a brief period of silence, he remarked, “I can see why haircutters always start talking to you. It’s weird to cut someone’s hair while they’re totally silent.”

“Is that so,” Seijuurou replied flatly.

Tetsuya ignored his attitude, continuing, “You have such nice hair. It feels like a shame to cut it off.”

“I have my mother’s hair,” Seijuurou murmured. He’d always thought it was pretty when he was younger.

“You’ve never spoken about her,” Tetsuya noticed.

“She died a long time ago.” Seijuurou thought of her gentle smile wistfully. “She used to cut my hair, like this.”

Tetsuya didn’t reply to that; there wasn’t much to say. They both knew, by now, the worth of condolences.

Slowly, Tetsuya’s snipping slowed as he applied the final touches to the back.

“Here,” he said, handing over the scissors. “You can do the rest.” Seijuurou stood up, feeling a bit chilled. Tetsuya stepped back, lips twitching with amusement. “You look really strange right now,” he said.

Seijuurou examined his appearance in the mirror. As far as he could tell, Tetsuya had done a good job in the back. Coupled with the long hair in the front, it did have the look of a bizarre haircut. Briskly, Seijuurou started snipping at the remaining strands. In the mirror, he saw Tetsuya look at him before walking away. When he put the scissors down, finished, he noticed red. Dried blood still clung to his fingers.

∞

“What happened to your face?” Araki settled into her chair, legs crossing as usual.

“I cut my hair.”

“And your face,” Araki pointed out playfully. Seijuurou felt a spark of irritation.

“I had someone help me with my hair. He cut my face.”

“Who was that?”

“My roommate.”

“Clumsy, huh?” Seijuurou felt his irritation pique again. Araki was in fine form today.

“He startled me, that’s all. I don’t like being touched.” Araki hooked onto that, straightening a bit in her chair.

“What do you mean by that?” she asked.

“I’ve never been a very affectionate person,” Seijuurou stated, feeling like this should be obvious.

“I can get that,” Araki said, leaning back. “We all appreciate personal space. It only becomes an issue when family and friends ask for physical intimacy.”

Seijuurou looked at her with skepticism. “Do I look like the type of person people would ask for hugs?”

Araki suppressed a smile. “You could be, if you wanted to.”

“I don’t,” he said flatly.

“Not even with your friends?” She gave him a significant look. “You keep a lot of distance between you and them.” Seijuurou’s brow furrowed at this.

“How is that so?”

“How many of them even know that you’re here right now?”

Seijuurou looked out the window, thinking of Shintaro.

“These friends care about you, don’t they? Don’t you think you should let them know that you’re not in a good place right now?”

Seijuurou shook his head. He wouldn’t be manipulated into divulging information he didn’t want to.

“This is only a concern for me because therapy works much better when you have family and friends involved. Now we’ve already established your father isn’t the best candidate. Your friends are your best option.” Seijuurou remained reticent, unconvinced. “Think of your friend that lives with you. He was the one that came with you, when you returned to therapy, wasn’t he?”

“Yes,” Seijuurou answered.

“Think of all the good he’s done for you. All of your friends could be a part of that.”

“I don’t have to share all of my problems,” Seijuurou pointed out.

Araki pursed her lips. “When I asked you who your closest friend was, you said Midorima. How do you think he would feel to know that you trusted your roommate more than him?”

Seijuurou shifted, feeling uncomfortable. Shintaro wouldn’t like it.

“You don’t _have_ to do anything you don’t want to, but you should still think about it. You could ask your roommate to sit in with you, if you think it’d help.” Seijuurou couldn’t imagine Shintaro appreciating Tetsuya’s presence in that discussion. “Speaking of, if he has some time I’d like to speak to your roommate.”

Seijuurou frowned, suspicious. “Why?”

“Because he’s playing a big role in your recovery right now, and that means it’s a good idea to have an honest, mediated talk about what that means,” she explained. “You can’t tell me this has never come up before.”

Seijuurou thought of the night that Kuroko held his hand, trying to force that discussion.

“I’ll ask him if he has time,” he told her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i didnt expect either of the scenes in this chapter, but here they are. this is the fic that keeps on growing!!! can you believe when i started this fic i thought it would be maybe 10K words in total? ah, the innocence. little did i know.


	19. Chapter 19

A warbling howl resounded through the compound, rising and falling in a rhythmic pattern. Seijuurou sat up in his seat, adrenaline racing through his veins. Forcing himself to relax, he refocused on the monitor in front of him. He wasn’t an Eva Pilot anymore; he wouldn’t be going out into the field. But someone else was. Seijuurou continued to stare at his monitor blankly. He wouldn’t know if one of the Generation of Miracles was out there until much later. Distantly, noises of roaring reached his ears.

The “pilot” he was tutoring messed up the simulation, being eaten by pretend enemy Evas. Seijuurou muted his speaker, annoyed at the Pilot’s incessant screaming. It was a waste of time for him to be here, and every minute seemed to drag longer than the last. Around him, the spare pilots whispered among themselves, thinking they were being discreet. It was banal.

It wasn’t until lunchtime that Seijuurou was released. He scanned the cafeteria for signs of his friends. Spotting Shintaro shortly, he went to join him at lunch. He didn’t see Tetsuya until that night.

The door clicked, alerting Seijuurou. Tetsuya stepped through, ducking sheepishly when he caught sight of Seijuurou. “I’m home,” he said.

“You’re late.”

“Sorry. I got held up,” Tetsuya replied. Seijuurou eyed him, looking for injuries. He couldn’t detect anything directly, but Tetsuya moved stiffly as he took off his jacket.

“You’re injured,” Seijuurou observed. “Let me see.”

Tetsuya sighed, sinking into the couch. He unbuttoned his cufflinks, rolling the sleeves up. This used to be a tradition after battles, back when Seijuurou needed to know their fitness for duty. Seijuurou leaned closer, examining the bandages that wrapped around both of Tetsuya's arms. They stretched from the forearm to past the elbow. “Is that all?” Seijuurou asked.

Tetsuya rolled his sleeves back down. “That’s the worst of it,” he said. Not that Seijuurou could know for sure. They no longer changed in the same locker room.

Seijuurou wanted to ask about the battle, but he knew Tetsuya didn’t want to talk about it. None of them ever did. His eyes lingered on Tetsuya’s arms, where the injuries lay hidden. He used to know all of his injuries as he got them. This felt… lonely.

“I’ll prepare dinner,” Seijuurou said, downcast. Tetsuya’s eyes tracked him, wordless and sad. Silence lingered between them that evening. Words crept up Seijuurou's throat before he pushed them back down into the quiet. Things had to change.

That night, Seijuurou tossed and turned. The air was cool, but he still sweated, sheets sticking to the small of his back. Every time he came close to sleep, he heard whispering. His eyes snapped open, certain that someone was in the room. No matter how many times his eyes searched in the dark of the room, he never found what haunted him. Eventually, he gave up on sleep, sneaking to Tetsuya’s room. Seijuurou watched the soft rise and fall of his chest, the way his bandages almost glowed silver in the strange quality of the light. When he felt his paranoia ease, he returned to his room to take a shower. He looked out his window to the city below, waiting for morning to come.

When sunlight began to peek around the corner of the world, Seijuurou heard rustling in the other room. Paranoia spiking, he snuck to the door to see who it was. Tetsuya was putting his shoes on at the door.

“Where are you going?” Tetsuya twitched, putting a hand to his chest as he turned to look at Seijuurou.

“You scared me,” he accused.

“I should be saying that to you. Why are you up this early?” Seijuurou examined Tetsuya’s apparel, which consisted of a T-shirt and shorts. It was what Tetsuya usually wore, which told him nothing.

“I always go for a run in the morning,” Tetsuya explained. “You’re just never up. Rather, why are you up? Did you sleep?” Tetsuya took a step forward, concern flitting across his face.

“Why wouldn’t I be up?” Seijuurou replied defensively. “Don’t let me keep you.”

“You could come with, if you felt like it,” Tetsuya said hopefully. Seijuurou weighed his options. It had been a while, and he was awake anyways.

“Okay.” Seijuurou ducked back into his room, quickly throwing on clothes and running shoes. He followed Tetsuya out the building and into the brisk air of the morning. It was fairly quiet; most people weren’t out this early. Jogging alongside Tetsuya, however, months of idleness came back to bite Seijuurou. He was soon doubled over, panting, as Tetsuya waited.

“This is the first time that I’m faster than you,” Tetsuya remarked happily. Seijuurou sent him the nastiest look he could muster. Tetsuya shut up, but continued to look happy, cheeks flushed and hair sticking to his head with sweat. It was difficult to stay angry. The sky turned from an incredibly light blue to briefly gold to its normal sky blue over the course of their run. By the end of it, Seijuurou felt much better, endorphins pulsing through his veins.

They parted ways to take showers. As Seijuurou was taking his, it occurred to him that Tetsuya would have to change his bandages. He finished quickly, dressing and going out to the main area. He started brewing his coffee, giving Tetsuya enough time to get dressed. He approached Tetsuya’s door, knocking lightly. Tetsuya swung the door open, still shirtless. As Seijuurou had suspected, loose bandages hung from one of his arms. Tetsuya was terrible at first aid.

“Yes?” Tetsuya asked, nonplussed.

“You’re making a mess of your bandages,” Seijuurou told him. “Let me.” He stepped into the room, forcing Tetsuya to take a step back as he let the door open for Seijuurou. Seijuurou took the opportunity to examine Tetsuya for more injuries. He had bruising on his chest and ribs, but otherwise only his arms were injured. Dark bruising extended up his arms, as deep as black in some places. His skin had split at point of high pressure. It wouldn’t surprise Seijuurou if he had cracked a bone in one or two places.

“Sit down,” he said, pulling the loose bandaging off Tetsuya’s arm. Seijuurou applied ointment and pads to the split skin. Then, he rewrapped the bandage more tightly. “These are defensive wounds,” he commented.

Tetsuya remained silent.

“Do you have pain medication?” Seijuurou asked, neatly finishing off the wrapping and securing it with tape.

“Yes,” Tetsuya said. Seijuurou took his other arm, checking over it briefly before getting to work.

“Have you taken it?”

“Not yet,” Tetsuya admitted. Seijuurou suppressed a sigh. Of course not. He finished off Tetsuya’s other arm, holding on to it for a moment too long.

“Thank you,” Tetsuya murmured.

“You’re welcome,” Seijuurou said, releasing his arm. “Now take your medicine.” He went to retrieve his coffee.

That morning, Seijuurou waited for Sanada in his office. He watched Sanada’s face reflexively pinch up upon spotting him, taking some perverse pleasure in making him uncomfortable.

“Good morning,” Seijuurou greeted, bowing.

“Good morning,” Sanada replied. “You need something?”

“I’d like to discuss my return to active duty,” Seijuurou said. He settled into the seat across from Sanada’s desk without prompting. He would be here a while.

∞

“So soon?” Shintaro frowned, looking down at his lunch.

“It’s to be expected; I could hardly stay in simulations forever,” Seijuurou pointed out before taking a bite of his lunch.

“Still…” Shintaro kept frowning.

“What is it?” Seijuurou asked.

Shintaro looked at him and then looked away, huffing. “You’re impossible,” he muttered.

Seijuurou raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “Truly? Do enlighten me.”

Shintaro’s brow furrowed in anger. “Weren’t you holed up for the longest time? I never saw you at lunch, or any other time, and all of a sudden you’re running around, asking for active duty.”

Seijuurou sat back, perturbed. “I never said I asked for active duty.”

“Didn’t you?” Shintaro shook his head. “Stop avoiding the topic.”

Seijuurou’s lips pursed. He thought of his conversation with the therapist. Lunchtime at the TEKO compound was not the right time to have this conversation. Though, he could see now, the right time may have already passed. Shintaro had that paranoid look on his face that came over him whenever he started theorizing about Tetsuya.

“Why don’t we have dinner sometime?” Seijuurou asked. “Just the two of us.”

Shintaro’s head tilted as he registered the sudden change in topic. He regarded Seijuurou suspiciously. “When would that be?” he asked in an oddly neutral tone.

“You tell me,” Seijuurou replied. Shintaro had the fuller schedule.

Shintaro stood up abruptly. “I’ll get back to you on that, then,” he said before striding away quickly with his lunch tray. Seijuurou got the overwhelming impression that something had gone awry in that conversation, though it was hard to tell why. Was it the request to be alone? Seijuurou stared at where Shintaro had disappeared. What was making Shintaro so paranoid?

∞

_Seijuurou is sitting next to Tetsuya on a bench outside. “You sure like open spaces, huh? I suppose it’s claustrophobic in an Eva.”_

_Seijuurou was struggling to breathe. He tried to exhale, pushing LCL fluid out of his lungs. He inhaled the air, but LCL fluid came out again, but it was wrong. He was suffocating. He clutched at his throat uselessly._

_“You don’t want to look at me anymore, huh,” the voice almost seemed to echo, the sound splitting and refracting. “But you shouldn’t turn your back on your enemy.” Breath brushed the back of Seijuurou’s neck and he gasped in terror._

His eyes flew open. His face was pressed into his pillow, producing a suffocating sensation. He lay in bed, exhausted. Every limb felt hollowed out and filled with a syrupy anesthetic – limp, useless, sickening. Seconds stretched into hours before he heard Tetsuya outside his door again. A soft knocking sounded as Tetsuya tested to see if he was awake. Seijuurou pretended to be asleep. Going for a run seemed like a monumental task at that moment.

∞

“Akashicci! It’s been a while,” Ryouta bounced toward him, tone sugary and irritating.

Seijuurou sent him a cool look, wishing Ryouta had a “low” setting. He was tired after having to get up in the morning several days in a row without sleeping well. Ryouta wilted a bit at his look, but recovered quickly.

“I missed all of you,” he said, moving at Shintaro as if to give him a hug. Shintaro took a step back, sensing the danger. Ryouta pouted. “You’re all so cold to me,” he complained.

“It hasn’t been that long,” Shintaro pointed out with a frown.

“Every day feels like an eternity when you have to work with that bastard.” Ryouta cast a hateful look over his shoulder at Haizaki, who was shoveling food in on the other side of the cafeteria.

“That’s just your perception,” Shintaro said stubbornly. “Why should I act pleased to see you after only a couple of weeks? I could have used a longer break.”

Ryouta let out a cry like a wounded cat. “Why are you in such a bad mood today?” he complained.

“It’s you,” Shintaro insisted.

Seijuurou felt his mood lift despite himself. Shintaro was just teasing by now, not that he’d admit it.

Ryouta turned to him. “And how are you?” The tone was light, but Ryouta’s eyes met his earnestly.

“I could do without the noise,” Seijuurou said bluntly before taking a bite of his bento. Ryouta let out a hurt noise as Shintaro snorted, then caught himself.

“I can find people who appreciate me. Where is Aominecci, anyways?”

“Most likely on the rooftop,” Shintaro replied.

“Is Kurokocci with him?”

Shintaro’s face scrunched up. “I doubt it,” he said sourly.

Ryouta groaned. “What a pain. Why is everyone scattered all over the place, anyways? Making it so difficult to talk.” He slumped dramatically over his lunch, affecting exhaustion.

“That’s because no one wants to talk to you,” Shintaro barked back. Seijuurou watched the proceedings, chewing his lunch. _A meal and a show_ , he thought drily. After Shintaro and Ryouta grew tired of bickering, the topic turned back to Seijuurou.

“So if you’re not piloting, what are you doing now?” Ryouta asked. He’d settled down and was eating his lunch properly.

“For now, I’m working in simulations. Starting next week, I’ll be a ground operator.”

Ryouta’s eyebrows flew up. “Already!” he said, surprised. “Wow. Well, you were always different, I guess.” In spite of his words, Ryouta looked perturbed. “They won’t be sending you into action, will they?” he asked.

“Not unless they have to,” Seijuurou answered. He watched as Ryouta struggled to look pleased. Whatever bothered Shintaro was bothering him, too, Seijuurou realized. He looked between the two for a signal of what was happening.

Shintaro put his chopsticks down. “Akashi and I were going to discuss it privately,” he said to Ryouta.

“I see,” Ryouta replied, looking down at his lunch. “Well, that’s good.” He looked up again. “Who did you get paired with?”

“I’ll be directing Kuroko,” Seijuurou replied. Kise’s face cringed a bit before recovering. Shintaro was sending him meaningful looks, to Seijuurou’s alarm. “I requested him,” he clarified.

“Eh,” Ryouta drew out the vowel. “I’m jealous. Here I have to be stuck with stupid Haizaki, and Kurokocci gets you.” Seijuurou tamped down his pleasure at the compliment. They could get rid of Haizaki in due time.

“Don’t start trouble with him,” Seijuurou said judiciously.

“No,” Ryouta sighed. “I suppose I can’t.” He perked up a bit. “Still, we should have a welcome back party.”

“You can’t organize your own welcome back party,” Shintaro told him.

“I’m not,” Ryouta held up his phone. “Momoicci is!”

Shintaro and Seijuurou’s phones buzzed simultaneously.

“Oh good, she made the texting group already.” Ryouta turned to his phone and started texting rapidly. “That’ll show Aominecci,” he muttered lowly.

Shintaro drew in breath to complain next to him. Seijuurou pulled out his phone, already planning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we made it thru friday guys :D daily updates, i can actually do it apparently (?)  
> im happy cause i think the next chap will be a scene ive been waiting to write for a long time. actual progress is being made, thank god. also, kise is a breath of fresh air to write. also, WEEEEKEEEEEEEEEEEND


	20. Chapter 20

Tetsuya picked up a bamboo mat, unsure. “This is it, right?” He turned to Seijuurou.

“That’s right,” Seijuurou stated. “Get two so we can both wrap sushi.”

Momoi and Ryouta had decided on a picnic for his “welcome back” party. Everyone was to contribute something to the party. Tetsuya had quickly volunteered to make the food after Momoi suggested she might. Seijuurou understood that she was more adept at crafting poisons than anything edible. The only question was what to make that would feed the entirety of the Generation of Miracles.

“Sushi would be easy to make in a large batch,” Seijuurou had said thoughtfully.

“Be reasonable,” Tetsuya had replied. “Even you can’t just make a bunch of sushi on the first try. It takes skill.”

Seijuurou had perked up at that. “Excuse me?”

As such, they were here to collect ingredients now.

“Let’s see… we need a sushi knife, as well. It’s a specific type,” Tetsuya looked up, trying to spot one.

“I’ll get the knife,” Seijuurou assured him. “You start getting the filling ingredients.”

Seijuurou walked towards the hardware section of the store. He started checking the selection of knives, picking out one that looked good.

“Excuse me.”

Seijuurou turned around. Behind him, a random guy was standing there.

“You’re one of the Eva pilots involved in taking down Jabberwocky, right? If you don’t mind, can I get your autograph?” Seijuurou suppressed his irritation; of course this happened from time to time. The Generation of Miracles were highly publicized at their height of activity.

“I’m not a celebrity,” Seijuurou turned around, hoping to leave him behind.

“All the same, I’d like to thank you for your service. That Gold Eva cost us irreparable damage.”

Seijuurou whipped around, hoping the man would leave him alone. “That’s not necessary,” he said briskly and started to walk away. There was something about having been on TV that made strangers feel like they owned people. As if Seijuurou was required to spend his time on some stranger because the guy recognized him. The man hadn’t even been right, anyways. The Gold Eva had escaped him, and Seijuurou had been in the hospital while he was finished off.

Seijuurou stalked towards Tetsuya with the sushi knife in hand.

“Something wrong?” Tetsuya read his poor mood off his face.

“I was recognized,” Seijuurou muttered. “We shouldn’t come back here for a while, just to be safe.”

“It’s fine; I never get recognized,” Tetsuya reassured him. “I’ll do the shopping for a while.”

Seijuurou sighed. There were times, though rare, that he envied Tetsuya his overwhelming ordinariness.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s finish up and get out of here.”

They quickly picked up the rest of the ingredients. Seijuurou grabbed the sushi rice before Tetsuya could reach for it. He ignored the suspicious look Tetsuya sent him, striding toward the check-out counter. From there, they walked home. The sky was a dark purple – the sun had just set, and it still wasn’t quite as dark as it would be.

“This is nice,” Tetsuya commented. Seijuurou inhaled the cool air. It _was_ nice weather. He turned to Tetsuya, who was watching him.

“I suppose you’re looking forward to seeing everyone tomorrow?” Tetsuya prompted.

“You’re not?”

Tetsuya looked away. “It’ll be nice,” he said quietly. Seijuurou kept watching him as they walked. It was odd: for a brief moment, Seijuurou wished this moment would extend forever. The future came inevitably closer, eating up their quiet moments of safety. They were at the apartment soon.

“I suppose we should get to rolling these now,” Tetsuya said as they walked through the door. His tone was unenthused.

“Rice first,” Seijuurou said briskly, already heading for the rice cooker.

“Don’t forget to wash it,” Tetsuya called after him.

Seijuurou corrected his course for the sink. “I didn’t,” he said.

From the other side of the room, Tetsuya snorted. “I suppose I’ll start slicing the filling, then.”

Seijuurou paused. “On the other hand, maybe you should start the rice,” he said, offering the rice bag.

“I’m not made of glass,” Tetsuya said, frowning. Seijuurou held out the rice patiently. Tetsuya’s arms were still healing, anyways. The bruising on his arms causing them to twitch and sever a finger. He was always right in these things, he told himself.

Tetsuya sighed and took the rice bag from him, suppressing a wince at its weight. Seijuurou tried not to be too satisfied at being right. He took the filling ingredients out of the shopping bag.

“You can make the fried eggs as well,” Seijuurou instructed, slicing the other ingredients.

“Yes, yes,” Tetsuya groaned, loading the rice into the rice cooker. Seijuurou looked up, meeting his eyes. Tetsuya’s cheeks pinked. He cleared his throat, closing the rice cooker and hitting the button to start it. “Anyways,” he said to no one.

Tetsuya took the eggs, and started to crack them into a bowl to mix. Seijuurou looked back at his abandoned ingredients, hiding his amusement. He continued slicing as the quiet sizzling of eggs popped into existence next to him. Soon, they were both done. They waited for the rice to finish so they could roll the sushi.

Seijuurou laid out a piece of seaweed on his bamboo mat while Tetsuya seasoned the rice. Seijuurou reached past him, taking a large scoop of rice and plopping into onto his seaweed. He spread the rice over the seaweed, and arranged the fillings on top. He then rolled the entire thing up, separating the roll from the bamboo mat as he folded it into itself.

Seijuurou took his roll and began to slice it neatly with the sushi knife. From his right, Tetsuya huffed.

“You roll it so well,” Tetsuya grumbled. Seijuurou looked over. Tetsuya was holding together a lumpy roll with filling bursting out each side.

“Practice makes perfect,” Seijuurou reminded him. Neither of them pointed out Seijuurou had no practice rolling sushi. He was always an exception to the rule.

Tetsuya sighed, and took the sushi knife from Seijuurou when he was done. Seijuurou had hardly staretd a new roll before Tetsuya huffed at his sushi again. Looking over, Seijuurou saw the roll had fallen apart where Tetsuya tried to cut it.

“Perhaps it’s better to leave that one as a whole role,” Seijuurou suggested. Tetsuya placed the roll with a ragged end into the Tupperware.

“I’ll prepare the soy sauce,” Tetsuya said, crestfallen.

Seijuurou held out the bamboo sheet, meeting Tetsuya’s eyes. Tetsuya accepted it, preparing the next sushi roll with slightly pink cheeks. Seijuurou smiled to himself.

∞

“Somebody help me with the blanket!” Momoi cried as she struggled against the breeze. Ryouta and Tetsuya grabbed the corners of the blanket, dragging it to the ground.

“What’s there to eat?” Daiki drawled from where he was lying on the ground, reading a magazine.

“Why do you have to be so rude?” Momoi scolded him. ”If you don’t help, you don’t get anything.”

“What!” Daiki sat up. “What am I here for?”

“How can you even say that? We’re all here for Ki-chan!”

“Yeah!” Ryouta called out, pinning down a corner of the blanket. “You’re here for me!”

“Waste of my time,” Daiki dismissed, ignoring Ryouta’s whines.

They were all at the park for their picnic. Seijuurou set his basket in the center of the blanket, where Atsushi started poking at it.

“You were the one in charge of snacks,” Tetsuya reminded him. “There’s nothing sweet in there.”

“I knew that,” Atsushi snipped. “Just because it’s not snacks doesn’t mean it can’t be sweet. What did you bring, anyways?” He wrinkled his nose.

“Sushi, not that you have to eat any,” Tetsuya said coldly.

“Just see if you can stop me,” Atsushi countered. Seijuurou watched this with concern. Usually, they didn’t argue unless it was over work.

“No fighting over the food,” he told them, and then turned to Shintaro to greet him.

Meanwhile, Atsushi upended his bag on the picnic blanket, dumping out snacks. They were mostly for him, though Seijuurou saw Daiki lean over and grab one. Atsushi gave him a nasty look.

Ryouta opened up his backpack, pulling out the drinks. “We’ve got soda, water, and of course, beer!”

“Hey-o” Daiki called. Ryouta tossed him a can while Seijuurou looked on disapprovingly. Seeing Seijuurou’s look, he defended, “It’s a picnic, loosen up.” To Seijuurou’s surprise, Tetsuya also raised a hand for a beer.

Atsushi sifted through the soda, picking out a grape flavor. Shintaro picked up a water bottle.

“How did you keep this cold?” he asked.

“Cold packs,” Ryouta explained, showing him the inside of his backpack. “Though I think it still got the inside wet…” he poked at it sadly.

“It’ll dry,” Tetsuya reassured him. To Seijuurou’s alarm, he’d already finished his beer.

“No more alcohol for you,” Seijuurou ordered him. Tetsuya _tsk_ ’d under his breath.

“What did you bring?” Ryouta asked Shintaro.

Shintaro pulled out a shogi board.

“Ugh, who put Midorimacci in charge of games?” Ryouta complained. Seijuurou perked up, moving over next to Shintaro.

“I thought we could play a game,” Shintaro told him.

“That would be acceptable,” Seijuurou responded modestly. They settled in to play a game, setting the board, as the others tore into the food.

Daiki burst out laughing. “What’s with this difference? You can really tell who made which rolls.” He held up one of Tetsuya’s rolls, lumpy and misshapen.

“I like those ones better,” Atsushi said, mouth full. “More filling.”

“I feel bad about not bringing anything,” Momoi worried.

Daiki snorted. “As if anyone wants to eat that toxic shit.”

Momoi leaned over and smacked him. “You’re the worst, Daiki.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Tetsuya comforted.

“Yeah, it’s not as if Aominecci brought anything,” Ryouta chipped in.

“Daiki is a pretty low standard,” Momoi said, still worried.

“Hey!” Daiki shouted as Ryouta laughed.

Momoi gave him a sour look. “The truth hurts,” she sniped.

Seijuurou tuned them out as he focused on his game with Shintaro. He had an inkling as to what his strategy would likely be, but Shintaro was in a strange mood today. He might try something unconventional.

As the morning gradually heated into noontime, Atsushi came over to watch their game.

“Don’t you have someplace to be?” Shintaro asked him, irritated at the crinkling of his snacks.

“No,” Atsushi replied, taking another bite of a candy bar with a noisy crunch.

“Go talk to someone else,” Shintaro said bluntly.

“Don’t wanna,” Atsushi mumbled around his candy bar. “Aka-chin, tell him to leave me alone.”

“You don’t want to talk to Kuroko?” Seijuurou asked.

“Hmph,” Atsushi grunted. As Seijuurou had suspected, they were fighting. It looked like Tetsuya wasn’t on good terms with any of the Generation of Miracles, except for Seijuurou. He looked over where Tetsuya was talking to the others. Well, more like Momoi – Daiki and Ryouta were talking to each other. Seijuurou suppressed a sigh.

“You don’t have to go anywhere you don’t want to,” he said to Atsushi. Shintaro’s face pinched up – he was clearly hoping to talk to Seijuurou alone here. Seijuurou wanted to talk to Ryouta first, since he seemed to know what was bothering Shintaro. Ryouta lacked a natural bias against Tetsuya. With that in mind, Seijuurou stood up.

“We’ll have to finish our game another time. Excuse me,” he said to Atsushi and Shintaro. He headed toward where Ryouta was still talking to Daiki.

Ryouta saw him coming. “Akashicci!” he called, grinning.

“Hey,” Daiki said carelessly.

“Good morning,” Seijuurou seated himself primly across from them.

“I’ve been asking them to give me an Eva that shoots lasers out its eyes.” Daiki used his pointer fingers to simulate lasers coming from his eyes.

Ryouta giggled, beer in hand. “They’re not going to build anything just because you asked for it. Right, Akashicci?”

“They built my Eva according to my specifications, but it’s probably different for you.”

“Fucking dammit,” Daiki exclaimed. “I _knew_ they could do it.”

“Calm down, calm down,” Ryouta said, waving his beer around. “I’m sure they’ll get around to it.”

“Lasers that came from the eyes would be extremely impractical,” Seijuurou pointed out.

Ryouta pursed his lips at Seijuurou, who tilted his head curiously. Nothing he’d said was false. Daiki rolled onto his back, sighing. In that position, he caught sight of where Momoi was trying to convince Tetsuya to let her feed him as he leaned away.

“Shit, I better go,” Daiki said, craning over. “At this rate they’ll be married by the end of the day.” He got up and trotted over to Momoi and Tetsuya, sandwiching himself between them forcefully.

Seijuurou looked at the three of them. He saw now the interested way that Momoi leaned towards Tetsuya. Thinking of his last interaction with Momoi, he wondered if she checked that all of Tetsuya’s friends weren’t dating him, or if Seijuurou was special because Tetsuya had moved in.

“I suppose they have become closer than they used to be,” Seijuurou noted. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

Ryouta looked over at them. “I guess,” he said. “Kurokocci doesn’t spend as much time with the rest of us anymore.”

Seijuurou looked at him, meeting his gaze. “What happened?”

Ryouta shook his head tiredly. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Talk anyways.”

Ryouta sighed. “Midorimacci thinks Kurokocci took on something… shady.”

“You don’t?”

“I think he found a way to run away from it all for a while. Away from us.”

“You lost touch with him?”

Ryouta nodded. “While you were… in a coma.” Ryouta looked at him. “I think he took a mission to get away. It was awful, for a while. That last mission as the ‘Generation of Miracles’… none of us had ever experienced anything like it before.”

Seijuurou mulled this over. Tetsuya’s story would make sense, then – perhaps he fought with Daiki because he was going away, on a cleanup mission for Jabberwocky. Seijuurou looked at Daiki. He had always been more loyal to Tetsuya. He wouldn’t appreciate Seijuurou interfering in their relationship. But that left one question unanswered: “What does Midorima think Kuroko got involved in?”

“I’d ask him. He’s certainly eager to talk to you.” Ryouta looked over his shoulder at Shintaro, who was trying to be inconspicuous as he watched the both of them talk. “Just…” Ryouta turned back to him, a more urgent look on his face. “Don’t dig too deep in these things. What Midorimacci is thinking of? It’s a big TEKO secret. Be careful.”

So that was why Shintaro and Ryouta were both so cautious in speaking about it. He would have to confront Shintaro later that day.

Seijuurou looked back at Ryouta, studying his tired features. “How are you?”

Ryouta let out a brittle laugh. “I’m the one who should be asking you that.”

“I’m doing better,” Seijuurou replied honestly. “How about you?”

Ryouta looked down.

“I’m sorry about Kasamatsu,” Seijuurou said more gently.

“No, it’s my fault, really. We all have to make decisions that are good for ourselves, and not for others. He needed to leave.” Ryouta was starting to choke up. “It’s the same with Kurokocci, probably.” Ryouta impatiently wiped a stray tear away. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to talk about this. You can ask Midorimacci about it.” Ryouta turned away, walking back towards Tetsuya and Momoi with a cheery smile forced onto his face. “Guys, don’t leave me out,” he cried, pouting.

Seijuurou watched him go, feeling guilty.

For a while, Seijuurou sat alone, content to watch the group. Shintaro and Atsushi bickered; the other four chatted companionably.

Seijuurou laid back. Large puffy white clouds drifted above him. Listening to the murmur of conversation from the others, he felt peaceful.

Eventually, though, voices started to raise with tension.

“Stop it, Daiki,” a sharp remark caught Seijuurou’s attention. The conversation settled back down again, but soon after Tetsuya came by and lay down next to him.

“Do you want me to talk to him?” Seijuurou asked, already knowing the answer.

“No,” Tetsuya replied. “This is between me and him.”

They both looked up at the sky.

Tetsuya pointed at one. “It looks like a bunny, doesn’t it?”

Seijuurou followed his gaze. “Then that’s the carrot over there, isn’t it,” he said, pointing at another cloud. Tetsuya shook with silent laughter.

“A very long carrot,” he agreed. “Look, the bunny is smiling at you,” he said as the clouds shifted, the bunny growing a leering mouth.

“And you’re smiling back!” he said, looking at Seijuurou’s face. Seijuurou controlled his expression; he’d been unaware he was smiling.

“What are you two doing?” Atsushi loomed over them. Behind him, Shintaro had leaned himself against a tree, and was watching the three of them with a complicated look on his face.

“We’re looking at the clouds,” Seijuurou told Atsushi. Next to him, he felt Tetsuya tense slightly as Atsushi lay down on Seijuurou’s other side.

“Which ones?”

Seijuurou pointed at the two. “Bunny and carrot,” he said.

“That’s a candy bar.”

Seijuurou considered it. “Maybe a melted candy bar,” he conceded.

“Gross,” Tetsuya said.

From nearby, a shout interrupted their conversation. Ryouta had fallen out of a tree. Nearby, Daiki was laughing from his own perch in a tree.

“They’re being disruptive,” Seijuurou said, half sitting up to stop them.

Tetsuya patted his arm. “Momoi will take care of it,” he reassured.

Sure enough, Momoi started shouting at Daiki from the root of the tree. “I’m not sure that’s taking care of it,” Seijuurou said, sitting up fully.

“What a pain,” Atsushi muttered.

“Maybe if we get lucky, they’ll fall and break their legs,” Tetsuya agreed.

Seijuurou sighed, getting up to scold them. Seeing him coming, Daiki said “Uh oh” before jumping down with a thump.

“This is a public area,” Seijuurou scolded them.

“We got bored,” Ryouta complained. “Can’t we go to a pool or something and swim?”

“Nobody has their swimming trunks,” Seijuurou reminded him. “At least limit yourselves to staying on the ground.”

“Fine,” Daiki sighed. Momoi pinched him, eliciting a cry of outrage.

“Maybe we can go in the water,” Ryouta suggested.

“ _Don’t_ go in the water,” Seijuurou stressed, feeling like a mother with unruly children.

“Okay, okay,” Daiki said as they walked away. Seijuurou turned back, irritated, and looked to Shintaro. “Watch over them, please,” he said before sandwiching himself back between Tetsuya and Atsushi. From afar, Seijuurou herd Ryouta shout “Aha! So you’re joining the race too!”

He couldn’t make out Shintaro’s response, though he could tell that it was annoyed.

“It’s like herding cats, isn’t it?” Tetsuya said sympathetically.

Seijuurou sighed. The three of them lay there for a while, lazily watching the clouds. The rest played around in the distance, their shouts carrying over on the last of the warm summer air. Lulled into sleepiness by the warmth and peaceful atmosphere, Seijuurou drifted off. Hours later, he felt someone shaking him.

“It’s time to go,” Tetsuya said gently. Seijuurou sat up, still sleepy. The group had gathered together nearby and collected up all the picnic supplies.

“Why didn’t you wake me up earlier?” he asked Tetsuya, feeling forlorn at having missed hours of the meeting.

“You needed your sleep,” Tetsuya murmured. “We’ll be meeting them again soon. Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m leaving,” Atsushi announced from nearby. Himuro and Kagami were waiting by the entrance to the park, grocery bags in hand.

“Already?” Ryouta groaned.

“We can see each other some other time,” Atsushi dismissed. He started to walk away. Daiki sidled up behind him.

“Why are you following me?” Atsushi asked him, irritated.

“I’m not,” Daiki defended, still walking behind him.

“Kurochin, control your friends,” Atsushi barked at him.

“Why is this my fault…?” Tetsuya muttered as he jogged over and tugged on Daiki’s sleeve.

“What, don’t want me to meet my replacement?” Daiki asked, rounding on him. Seijuurou surmised he wanted to fight with Kagami.

Tetsuya sighed. “This again? Stop it.”

“Come back, Aomine,” Seijuurou commanded. Relief flitted across Tetsuya’s face, and he smiled at Seijuurou in gratitude.

“Whatever!” Daiki barked. “It’s about time to go, anyways. Come on, Satsuki.”

“What?” Momoi cried. “I wasn’t done talking to Tetsu!”

“Ugh,” Daiki grunted, rolling his eyes. “I’m going.”

“Bye, Tetsu,” Momoi shouted as she hurried after Daiki. “Daiki,” she whined, still complaining at him as he walked away.

Tetsuya watched them walk away, a tired but amused expression gracing his features.

“Aominecci, too?” Ryouta complained.

“I’ll call Takao and tell him to come pick me up,” Shintaro said, pulling out his phone.

“Is that alright?” Tetsuya said. “Isn’t it a bit of a pain to get him to come all the way out here?”

“Not at all,” Shintaro answered on Takao’s behalf.

“Shintaro,” Seijuurou murmured, gesturing. Shintaro followed him a short distance from the others.

“You’ve been wanting to talk to me for some time. What is it?” Seijuurou looked into Shintaro’s eyes. “Kise said this was about something shady.”

“That’s one way of putting it.”

“What was he involved in?”

Shintaro paused. His expression was torn. “That’s not really important.”

Seijuurou’s eyes widened. “Not important? For something that’s not important, you seem to care a lot.”

“It’s not the mission, it’s that he chose to go on it,” Shintaro evaded.

“Kise said he never went on the mission,” Seijuurou countered.

“What did Kuroko say?”

Seijuurou thought back. “He said he was involved in some cleanup of Jabberwocky.”

Shintaro pursed his lips. “Maybe that’s true.” He looked over at Tetsuya. “But even if it is, his behavior has been suspicious lately.”

“Is this about him moving in again?”

“Among other things.”

Seijuurou sighed. It was time for him to own up. “Kuroko moved in because I needed him to.” Shintaro raised his eyebrows, startled. “I’m in therapy, right now. I haven’t… been in a good place, lately.” Seijuurou lowered his eyes in shame. “Kuroko has been helping.”

It hurt to say, but he could see Shintaro’s posture softening. He reached out a hand and squeezed Seijuurou’s shoulder. “You seem better.”

“I am,” Seijuurou affirmed.

“Maybe I should let things go,” Shintaro murmured. “Maybe he really did run away, and that was why we didn’t see him for a while.”

Seijuurou examined his expression. “Is this really just about him leaving for a while?”

Shintaro looked him in the eyes. “What he did was a betrayal,” he asserted.

Seijuurou sighed. “Don’t expect me to hold things against him that I have no experience of. I wasn’t there.” Shintaro’s expression shadowed. He didn’t respond.

“Let’s go.” He walked back towards Ryouta and Tetsuya. They had both said what they needed to.

“You two done with your secret club meeting?” Ryouta teased.

Shintaro sniffed. “There is no secret club. You were just so annoying we needed to get away.”

Ryouta squawked at that. Seijuurou walked back towards Tetsuya, trying to read his expression. Tetsuya looked back, his expression blank.

“We’ll have to finish that game another time,” Shintaro said. “It looks like Takao is here.”

In the distance, Takao rolled up with a wagon attached to his bicycle. Seijuurou and Tetsuya watched, nonplussed, as Shintaro climbed into the wagon and was pulled away.

“Those two have a strange relationship, don’t they?” Tetsuya remarked, watching them go.

Seijuurou hummed noncommittally.

“I once heard him call Takao his servant,” Ryouta gossiped. “Sounds weird, doesn’t it?”

“Sounds fishy,” Tetsuya agreed.

Seijuurou rolled his eyes. “Let’s go,” he said to Tetsuya. Tetsuya hesitated. He looked at Ryouta, who was drooping sadly.

Seijuurou suppressed a sigh. “We should walk you home, Ryouta.”

Ryouta immediately perked up. “I’m not a girl,” he protested, even though his face had lit up.

“No arguing,” Seijuurou insisted.

“Okay,” Ryouta said cheerfully. Tetsuya slowly stood up, more tired by the day’s events. The two of them walked ahead. Seijuurou trailed behind them, mulling over his conversation with Shintaro. There was something very odd in the way Shintaro had dodged answering questions.

He looked up, his eye catching Ryouta’s glance backward. They were talking about him, Seijuurou realized. He sped up to catch up with them. He was tired of people keeping secrets from him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another chapter from The Fic That Will Never End  
> i would apologize for missing a couple days but there's a 10/10 chance you didn't notice. but if u did, i won't be updating in the next couple days.  
> the sushi they made was [futomaki](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dQw4w9WgXcQ) btw.


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